NEVER FORGET THE BREAD KING

The Bread King was more than just a tyrant made of those inedible, twisted, multi-colored bread sculptures on the display counter at the bakery.

He was also a poet. And I saved his journals from the looters’ flame. I will be publishing his until now lost work here on a regular basis. Below, an untitled piece from The Bread King.

TEETH OF BREAD, TEETH OF BREAD.
HOW DO I CHEW WITH THESE TEETH OF BREAD?
How do I see with these eyes of bread? How do I learn with a brain of bread?

I’M MADE OF BREAD, GODDAMN YOU. BREAD!
The lizards don’t care,
they only despise me
and my bread legs.

HOW I WISH BREAD WAS STEEL!

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About Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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