At my desk pounding keys
More words for public consumption
A sad poem which had nothing to do with me
So I deleted it
Best to let others tell their own truth
Especially when there’s
Extra angst-on the side
On the side means control
Food servers hate on the side
Especially ones who sing
Heinous birthday songs to anyone
Foolish enough to order
Free birthday dessert
But– it’s not my birthday
And– I’m too broke to eat out
Which is a good thing
When you know the truth about
Behind the scene restaurant payback
I was thinking about cheesecake
Some double layer thing
Baileys/Amaretto
Or
Coconut/Black-Cherry
Standing tall on a glass plate
Engraved with a raspberry compote
Swirled intricate designs
Like the ones Beatrice
Puts on top of my lattes
It adds beauty to a surly world
Guarantees a buck tip/Sometimes more
It’s true…
The little things keep you coming back
Yet some things
Should never be booked
For return engagements
Death appeared on my couch
Cheesecake in hand
Nibbling away
With a skull shaped fork
“Wanna bite?” He asked
“What’s the flavor?”
He took another nibble and said,
“Death by Chocolate”
Gee, what a surprise…
I sat and typed
While Death ate cheesecake
And maintained his status of
Royal pain-in-the-ass
He reminded me my cholesterol
Was over 400
“Butter in the blood baby
You should be dead-know what I’m sayin?”
It’s odd when you think about it
Death’s lack of understanding
Concerning those who inevitably
Ride the bus to the other side
Like the food server
Who brings the gang
To sing a heinous birthday song
After being warned not to
Even though it means zero tip
Just like I was warned
By the doctor
By Death
Even though it means zero life
You see, I don’t care
Just like that food server
It’s all just a waiting game
Until the last period is written
And it’s time to clock out
I figure there must be worse things to die of than cheesecake or chocolate. Enjoy! At least until the last period is written.
No doubt, thought you’d agree….
‘butter in the blood’, nice touch.
Who wants to be a perfectly healthy corpse anyway? Now there’s an oxymoron for you. Not sure if I’m the ox or the moron. lol I’m rambling, aren’t I? Old age; sorry.
Ah Paul, ya know-you can watch every damn thing and die in a car accident or be a total buffoon and live to be 100.
On my way to check your new stuff out!~!!
“Until the last period is written” in a poem with no periods. Nice. I love cheesecake and the image of the Reaper on the couch would fit perfectly in my salon.
Red.
Who doesn’t love cheesecake!?! Death said he’s gonna check out your salon and hang out for a bit…Good luck
As a writer who often focuses on dessert foods in my blog, I love this one!
christyb
As a writer who loves dessert I’m stoked you dig this one!!!!