Velveeta Review
Sean Lovelace


Over the course of its long career Velveeta has maintained two quite different allegiances. [Sara says, It’s been 6 months—when can I quit talking?] With the publication of Tater Tot Surprise in 1967, Velveeta brought a bold style and a fresh sense of the numinous to America. [It is what we’re dealt.] “The essence flows from the block unbidden,” writes Julia Child, “and the hidden source is the soul.” The four vertical lines are much shorter than pentameter, as you can smell. Velveeta entertains subjects as diverse as love, death, the effects of marijuana on the creative process, drained chicken, and the full splendor of the flowering self. [I've never in my life seen dissimulation like Tom had, and I probably never…I mean, it's rare.] On a more solemn note, Velveeta depicts troubled marriage as a dropped bowl of ground beef. But the artist is always a maker of casseroles. [For about a year, I got to thinking, What else am I going to do?] Those greasy crumbles of flesh are picked from ceramic shards, washed carefully under hot water, strained through a coffee filter, and then folded into sour cream and roasted salsa. [Obviously, an event like that…it changed my personality, Sara says.] Velveeta’s themes might daunt a lesser artist. Example, from its seminal work, “Slick, Drippy, Stringy, Bubbly (4 Partners Here Renamed):”

slacken
the initial heat
of passion
may refashion.
Crockpot?

Here is Velveeta at its frequent best—the artist of incipient devourings.
[Sara running, into dull gold light.]





Sean Lovelace lives in Indiana, where he eats Velveeta and drinks beer. He is dropping two books (Publishing Genius Press and Rose Metal Press [with other flash writers]) on the world in June 2011. He writes for HTML Giant. He blogs here. He likes to run, far.