Daily Editor Josh Tate expresses his love for his favorite halal cart the only way he knows: Dylanic verse.

I’ve been skating away, on streets abroad

With the rumble cruel of hunger

And my breath puffs out in angry drone

My taste buds falling under

I just can’t take anymore John Jay,

Not Ferris, no more Hewitt

But where can I go for a cheap meal quick

Where the cold won’t beat me to it

“Take heed take heed,” said my friend so brave

“Halal is what you’re craving,

For just six bucks your day’s complete

115th will hear your pleading.”

“But what can I get that could taste so fine

Falafel, fries, or a gyro?”

“Don’t, my friend, treat yourself unkind

Lamb over rice today and on tomorrow”

With a fist full of ones and dry dry lips

I wandered, pack on my shoulder

Then there I stood at the flavored gates

When my tongue did start to water

The man at the cart with a wink and a grin

Piled rice and lamb and salad,

And asked, though he knew, if I want hot sauce,

I nodded up, my knuckles pallid

With a trade and a smile, I walked away

My nostrils wide and breathing

And in my room, I said a prayer

This was what I was needing

And fork by fork, my life fulfilled

I promised, ne’er betray him

For 115th had dreamt me up

And made cleansed my life of poison.

Image via Bwog Archives