Found Poetry: Quinoa Salad in Blood

Sometimes poetry happens organically in the real world, far from the desks of poets, as in this menu from the Adams Avenue Grill in San Diego:



Reading the first line, the reader begins to drool over the prospect of a savage, carnivorous meal—only to have expectations swiftly reversed in the next line. The startling double meaning, coupled with the tension between the words that end the lines (“blood,” “vegetarian”), represent a level of craft that every poet should strive for. We take our hats off to the anonymous author of these brilliant lines!

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