Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

Sometimes a poem is born from heartbreak.

Sometimes it is born from a metaphor.

And sometimes my brain apparently looks at a sandwich and says, yes, this is how we’re processing emotional confusion today.

Lost in the Sauce is a deliberately playful poem built around food-related wordplay, particularly the language of sandwiches, condiments, bread, and the wonderfully terrible possibilities hidden inside them.

The jokes are intentionally stupid.

That is part of the point.

“Bread” becomes “rye.” “Ketchup” becomes “catch up.” “Mustard” becomes “must’ve.” “Sourdough” becomes an emotional description. Even “lettuce meat in the middle” is doing multiple jobs at once.

But beneath all of that nonsense is something much more familiar: the confusion of being told that everything is okay while someone’s behavior feels completely different.

The speaker is trying to understand the contradiction.

They were told the relationship was fine.

They were told the other person was happy.

So why does everything suddenly feel cold?

Why does affection feel sour?

Why does the speaker feel trapped in place, struggling to catch up to something they don’t fully understand?

The ridiculous wordplay gives me permission to approach that emotional confusion without making the poem overly solemn.

I’ve been rediscovering how much I enjoy treating language like a playground—taking ordinary words, twisting them until they become something else, and seeing how far I can push a joke before the emotional meaning underneath it starts showing through.

So yes, this poem is about sandwiches.

Sort of.

Mostly, it’s about being lost in the sauce when the person you’re trying to understand has already changed the recipe.

— Rowan Evans

Lost in the Sauce
Poetry by Rowan Evans

You sandwiched me in
with an all-tomato—

love you or leave,
but I couldn’t do it clean—

I was lost in the sauce,
begging lettuce
meat in the middle.

You said, “you lie.”
I said, “Nah, you rye.”

But do you know why?
I was stuck in place,
you wouldn’t wait—

I was struggling
to ketchup.
I thought you
mustard—

how could you not?
People talk.

Look—
I’m sorry.
I don’t want to fight.
But, you said—
you were happy.
We were okay.

So why you so cold,
why you actin’ sourdough?

Journey into the Hexverse…

[Did You Really Think This Was About Trees?]
A playful love poem disguised as a forest of terrible tree puns. Beneath the birch, oak, cedar, palms, lumber, and absurdist wordplay is a poem about devotion, loyalty, laughter, and building a life with someone you love.

[Blended Hardware]
A playful, absurdist poem where step-ladders, garden hoses, Star Wars, teenage memories, Gothic imagery, and the poet’s own self-interrupting commentary collide. Blended Hardware is a celebration of letting language wander.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]