Wrapped inside a layer of paper,
One that you take off and then scrape or
Lick or pick at to get that
Goodness that you’d miss
If you’d simply kiss the obvious.
Wet your lips with sugar crystals,
Fire frosting down like pistols,
Push past the biological stability
To engage the utility of a sugar crash
Pulled out of the stash at a rest stop
Before everyone’s ready to drop
On the next leg of your trip,
The unripened Avocado locks Guacamole in its potential form.
I’m amazed that God didn’t make Guac the norm.
Perhaps a sort of Algae for the fish to eat,
floating on in ooze that turtles would meet
before learning ninjutsu from a rat.
Why wouldn’t God think of that?
Ears peak to
The sliding melt of ice
Running off of itself,
Shifting the structure in my glass.
Orange Marmalade’s displayed
Alongside Grape Jelly to tell the
Story of which jam’s liked most.
But the strawberryless rack’s like a smack
In the face of my naked toast.
Eating out, I stare at the menu
Then you ask me if I need some more time
And I’m lost in words but manage “yes”.
Guessing which picture accompanies the text,
I’m vexed by constant revision.
Indecision, I order doubt.
She ate too many of those Doritos
So her fingers looked like Cheetos
Until she sucked off the orange stick
With a full mouth lick
So as to not waste
The orange taste.
The crumpled bill diet.
I just Passed a glassed trapper,
Containing a reflective wrapper
Framing a high fructose frustration
In my lack of a sugary sensation.
Looking through the force field of glass,
I punch in the code and pass
My dollar bill through the slot
But it’s not as flat as I thought
And the machine returns my dollar bill.
So I do some reverse origami but still
My single just won’t mingle with machines,
So a dollar less of candy fills my jeans.