Sitting under a lightened load
Waiting for my modeling debut,
This is my first time
Baring all for the camera
Since I was just a baby.
Now I’m going under,
Getting my inside scoped
To see what might be growing in there.
Right now I could care less
As all I am thinking about
Is food, fried chicken and waffles primarily,
But I could live with pancakes or
Sausage gravy, or just about anything
Short of onions.
These last few minutes before the gas
Are harder than the previous thirty-six hours
Because I’m hungry now
And unable to have even a cough drop.
Rachel Ray is on the waiting room tv
Making some shit I would never consider.
Hunger inspires desire and compromise,
Even submission as whatever she’s making
Has onions and I’m drooling like my dog
When I ask him if he wants a bone.
Oh, take me next
I’m prepped, ready to go,
Willing to turn whatever cheek you need
To move the process along.
My modesty was left with the tortellini
I ate two days ago
And I’m feeling photogenic.
I still won’t smile, though.