My Cheeseburger

I'm eating a scrumptious cheeseburger.
You don't want to hear about my quote unquote cheeseburger?

Tough.

Well sure, I could tell you about my years in the French Foreign Legion,
escapes, disasters, triumphs, travails, my love affair with Eleanor Roosevelt,

 my Nobel Prize in Metempsychosis....

But looking back at those hills and landslides
it isn't me I see but a simulacrum, a manikin

doing me

in zero-space, trying to get me right but no,
not even close. The past comes back, all clear as now, except this featureless

ersatz I. 

Even the who who ate lunch  yesterday,
I need an understudy to finish my omelet

mousseuse.

So what really matters is this burger I'm involved in:
blue cheese, pickles, hots, onions, lots of ketchup, almost too thick for my incisors to get a grip on. 

Yum.