He gets the frozen pizza sausage every day from Von's
the canned olives and bacon sprinkles
Routine meant to protect the changes he cannot fathom
Forgetting he played a role in his code destiny
She rakes the leaves near the driveway
its her obligation to the damned
the afternoon hue changes to the dark, scarecrow nightmares
based on illegitimate faith
Fingers pointed but no answers arise
from the Urban Dictionary
til their hand made avatars
pull the sword on their opponent
the knife sharpener hidden in the garage
Go now then and order that Pizza Luce Special
off the bi-annual coupon
you know you have to change the flavor
every now and then
Your taste buds have become dry
outweighing the sorcerer's accusations
As you beeline to the Scandinavian Port de Salut cheese
with high end Jalapeno
because the fire
can't dim nor the desire
with the flaming pieces
stuck in Gouda
setting your tongue on fire.
I wrote this poem about a month ago. No one will get it so don't try.
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