I distinctly told her that I didn’t want tomato on my hot
pastrami and cheese sandwich, but sure enough when
I got home and took the sandwich out of the wrapper,
I saw that on both halves there was tomato pressed against
the cheese, which made me say out loud, “Damn it. . .
I made it clear that I didn’t want tomato in my sandwich.
That I don’t like tomato in my sandwiches!”

Deciding not to take it back—mainly out of hunger—
I pulled out the tomato, which had done a fine job
permeating the cheese in both halves.

I then started eating while looking at the tomato lying there
on the paper, wondering why they even put tomato in sandwiches
or anywhere else for that matter.

– Jeffrey Zable

Author’s Note: I hope this poem “rings through” with the humor of the situation. I admit that having that tomato there made me a bit angry given that I expressly stated that I didn’t want tomato—and that I didn’t like tomato in any of my sandwiches.