cabbage-slivers

Updated: May 15, 2025

A glaze of greenish grease seals the mystery of its content, I induce two fingers to penetrate the seal. They bring me up a flat sliver of cabbage and a large, hard, thoughtful, solemn, uncooked bean. I did. Thus leaving beans and cabbage-slivers. Which I ate hurryingly, fearing a ventral misgiving. I pass a lot of time cursing myself about the pencil, looking at my walls, my unique interior.

E. E. (Edward Estlin) Cummings - The Enormous Room