adam j. sontag

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he was an angry little man

The Little Man a paem
There once was a little man,
who loved his frying pan,
and when he didn’t get use his frying pan,
he was an angry little man!

This banal tale of professional discontent is quite possibly the first poem I’d ever write. I’ve not the foggiest recollection what inspired the Little Man character, or his fixation on using only his own equipment in the kitchen. Luckily, my illustration finds our behatted protagonist fully in his element, his pan in hand as he satisfiedly fries…an omelette…on a…table?

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