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The Road to Pastrami

I don't need a guru
I've no use for a swami
I just need a trip back home
to find the best pastrami

The Jewish delis of my childhood
gleaming buckets of sauerkraut
pastrami so hot it steamed the bread,
sharp-crusted rye, without a doubt

Frilly toothpicks
red or blue
secured the mountains of beef
so much food, but I could eat it all
to exactly no one's relief

Maybe it's just stupidity
but I'm craving Miami's humidity
I want the ocean and the burning sand
I want to reexplore my childhood land

It's been years,
I know much has changed
but I'm sure a great pastrami sandwich
could still be arranged.








Written by Pinkdreams
Published
Author's Note
I recently discovered an authentic Jewish deli just a few miles away with great pastrami, but they serve it on cold bread and it's just not the same.

If anyone is wondering why my finishing a lot of food was "to no one's relief" it's because my parents and grandmother were obsessed with keeping my weight down. I was taught to LEAVE food on my plate (a habit I still usually maintain). Weird, I know.
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