Breakfast at Blueberry, despite the weight we carry.
Barely able to fit at the table.
In-N-Out luncheon, continue our munchin'--
Burger and fries to widen our thighs.
A C&O dinner--never any thiner.
Telling a story; Singing "That's Amore."
One more bite--what an appetite!
A couple of fruits, can't see our boots!
Then you're countenance read of abstinence:
Turned to me and said, "Tonight, no fun in bed,
Don't try in vain--too stuffed to be stuffed again."
Standing up, looking down. Eyes won't go 'round.
The day i dread: can't see my head!
Hunger pains and sanity drains.
Vegas buffets; Full dinner trays.
Purging for more. Culinary whore.
Growing obese, still we feast.
Will it only stop, when into our graves we plop?
Ryan J. Nelson ©2004
Recently unearthed from an old journal of mine. This was totally written to amuse an ex about our love of going out to eat. It actually makes us sound like fat pigs, but we weren't really. Well, at least that's the story i'm going with now, haha! I showed this to him once and we had a good laugh.
-ry
x
If what your country is doing seems to you practically and morally wrong, dissent is the highest form of patriotism.
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