Let’s start with a spoon, the small metal object that one
uses all of one’s will to bend in circles because really
“It’s not a spoon at all”
but rather an extension of your
c o n s c i o u s n e s s …
which seems for some strange reason,
his heart or his shoes,
to be nearly completely empty and devoid of all thought
of course other than reminding you that the milk expires
in five days and you’re not even half way done with it,
you’re really not one to feel ok with dumping out an entire
half-gallon of milk and although you try to be quite adamant
about being an avid cereal eater,
you simply don’t think that five days is enough time to finish
off the rest of the milk without any enthusiasm.
This is incredibly upsetting to you because you
have always been one to timely finish dated products,
letting things go bad is simply out of the estionquay
if you know what I’m ayingsay, and you can’t afford to
break your thirteen year winning streak now, no.
You’re this close to being tied with Malcolm Flanders
in the 15th annual national punctuality contest.
You’re determined this year to beat that prim,
perfect little prissy overly-punctual prat!
No, you won’t lose, you can’t lose, not this time,
you can’t face another year of degrading e-mails and
Facebook posts from that fart pillow, Malcolm.
From now on, every meal is breakfast,
until that dairy is done, every meal is breakfast
that is the only sensible solution to this mess.