With the Super Bowl on my brain, I – as first graders are wont to do – used Roman numerals to title the perplexing sequel to The Little Man. Our hero’s pathology has taken a curious turn in the two days since his initial appearance; the very specific culinary proclivities that were once his calling card have now become an albatross.
Another theme at play in this work – one that would explain away this dark turn – is my uncured habit of forgetting to transcribe crucial words from my inner monologue onto the page. As in Jerry Rice broke the of touchdowns, it’s obvious that I omitted the word “man” from the first line of this poem. If, in between the words “he” and “use”, I failed to include the word “doesn’t”, this poem would mirror the structure of the original – and significantly simplify our understanding of one of 1993’s most beloved characters.