Today, tomorrow, whatever,
They all seem the same, anymore,
Infections, government corruption,
It’s getting so tough,
It’s even hard to find time to take a pee.
Somehow, though, this time is doing
Some sort of Jedi mind game on me.
I’m looking at a picture of
Spaghetti-Os formed into Jello
With the hole in the middle filled with
Vienna sausages thinking,
I bet I could eat that under the right conditions.
I doubt I could, but maybe,
If I was hungry enough
And the money was right,
And there wasn’t any fruit mixed into the jello
And all the jelly was scraped off the sausages.
The sausages would have to be room temperature, at least,
The jello super cold, with the famous jiggle and wiggle,
I’d want it cut like pound cake into wedges,
Not the normal cubes, but if someone brought a straw
I’d be out.
Unless it was one of those Slurpee straws with the spoon on the end,
Then I could dig in and take one good drag
Like I was hit a big cigar and wait for the nauseousness to hit.