She looked over his shoulder
For vines and olive trees,
Marble well-governed cities
And ships upon untamed seas,
But there on the shining metal
His hands had put instead
An artificial wilderness
And a sky like lead.

A plain without a feature, bare and brown,
No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood,
Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down,
Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood
An unintelligible multitude,
A million eyes, a million boots in line,
Without expression, waiting for a sign.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Stunning revelation

I had always been under the impression that the gyro (apparently aka "donor kebab") was an ancient and traditional dish of vaguely middle eastern / Mediterranean descent. Oh how wrong I was. So sad.
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1 comment:

Kafreen said...

Ain't no way that dude invented yogurt sauce. That is legit Middle Eastern (and omg delicious).

January 22, 2009 at 9:36 AM

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