Thursday, February 5, 2009


Since people never read the title, I guess I should give some sort of introduction.
This is from the point of view of a slice of bread which gets toasted and then eaten for breakfast.

I watch them getting chosen-
Slowly, one by one.
I wait eagerly for my chance.
I am tired of being like the average:
Pale, anaemic, really;
And clammy to the touch.
To top it all, 
Our horrible posture-
Limp, flip-flopping, toppling over
With unenviable ease.

We share a house.
Like most things today,
It is flashy packaging
And no substance.
We can see right through it, 
Literally so.
I don't enjoy a permanent view of our neighbours.
Some are bad eggs,
Some, sour grapes.
As for the sweet ones,
They're not the same these days.
The effect of too much dieting, you know.

Anyway, it is finally my turn
To get out of here!
How exciting!
A draught signalls the arrival of
He takes me to the machine,
And I occupy my alloted seat.

It is lovely and warm.
Already I can see the transformation
Taking place.
A delightful brown spreads evenly
Over my body.
I stand straighter, and straighter, and straighter still.
My curves grow more well-defined.

It is now a bit too hot.
But beauty comes at a price.

There, I am ready.
No wait,
Some kind of gel is being applied 
All over me.
It feels nice and cool.
Master is so thougtful.

Where will I go now?
Where do they go, 
The chosen ones?
Why do they never return 
To the sorority?
I suppose I shall soon find out.

Looks like a tunnel.
But there are SPIKES on the celing.
And the floor.
This is scary.
Hang on. NO NOT IN THERE!!!


19 beep/s:

Prince of Mirkwood said...

You are the chosen one....Welcome to the emo side.
If it had some sort of cryptic interpretation, I didn't get it.
P.S. Your curves grow well defined? WTF?

Death On Two Legs said...


It's about toast. Bread-toast.

No one ever reads the title.

spriblah said...

Ohhhhh, it's about toast, I thoght it was some weird analogy which I wouldn't understand in any case, and the word toast has many connotations so it's not my fault really, it could be have been a toast to your "newly well-defined curves",*snigger.
Considering it's about toast, it's quite interesting actually.

Death On Two Legs said...

Sweet Jesus... what did I get myself into!

Actually, I wrote this poem after discussing the topic with someone, so I kinda' forgot that others would need some kind of background to this.

SPIRITed! said...

*raises toast*

blinknmiss said...

oof so many puns... morey gelam.

i read the title...

fantastic really. of course you're simply inviting people to interpret on a metaphorical plane...

how come in class 5 all we were told to write for language class was 'the autobiography of a shoe'?? i would've loved to have written something like this instead....

D'Evil Sam said...

The Absurd life of a Toast. Absurdism I emphasise...
Love it :-)

Prince of Mirkwood said...

Oww! *Digs himself a grave and is lost from sight...forever*

Death On Two Legs said...

Thank you, all. Yes, after 4 years of Shakespeare, I can't resist trying my hand at a few puns.

And Noor- you should have given it more thought, shouldn't you? :D

wonderwall said...

I love the new title, you seem to be really scared of people identifying the "well-defined curves" with you.Hee hee.

Death On Two Legs said...

Well, if people thought it was a personal narrative, they'd think I was emo AND figure-obsessed.
Which they have full liberty to think, but not if it distracts from my literary artistry :D

Vikrant said...

I insist on believing its about your newly defined curves.

wonderwall said...

You're hair-obsessed which is worse than figure obsession. Maybe those are the "well-defined curves" and I staunchly support Vikrant.Hee hee.

Death On Two Legs said...

Spriha, have you made up your mind to support Vikrant on my blog, and annoy him on his?

wonderwall said...

Anushki,my purpose in life is to annoy people and since I'm not being able to suitably satisfy that purpose through my blog, I have taken to posting annoying comments on other people's blogs. Remember that annoying kid sister you wish you didn't have, I'm her, reincarnated.
And as for Vikrant, I'm irritating him, not annoying him, there's a subtle difference, and he gets pissed really easyily so it's great fun.

Opaline said...

I suspect if I read this I will be amused.

Death On Two Legs said...

@spriha- you know, you do have a rather good grip over the language, especially for your age.

@opaline- well, did you? were you?

Opaline said...

Did not. Blog poetry destroys me.

Death On Two Legs said...

Heh, alright. To each her own.