The Black, the White & the Gray

I live in a sandwich fantasy. 
Do sandwiches fantasize about me? 


Duplicitously honking phantom horns 
around town and down 
by the schoolyards at lunchtime. 


A fantasy sandwich, sandwich of two fantasies 
concurrently, like a dog show and a tab of LSD. 


Disrupting vices. Soothers. 
Soothsayers. Monsignor Juniors. 


Sir Flabby haberdashery ex utero is just 
shoddy camaraderie in Sutro 
or Potrero, I don't know. 


Wander the green parks, the 
twilight stars frozen sparks. 


We all know what's wrong. 
But who's gonna stay and fight? 


Give it some stupid thought. 
Curtis knew it. 


Sir Faulty Dolly. 
Sir Arise-and-Curtsey. 
Sir Subtle Mutiny. 
Sir Stubble Fruit Tree. 
Sir Studded Roofbeam. 


A hammy ham on rye, 
hold the mud, Small Fry.