I was underneath the hugest piñata, nervous,
clinging gingerly to my think tank,
well oiled, slick, sludgelike,
thick as chocolate pudding
fresh from the fridge.
Food storage is very philosophical,
yet many who use it are decidedly not.
I am handsome like a young Stalin
up and at ‘me, before long
when everyone else is asleep
and i shout “wake up!”
my voice, prettier and voicier than my enemies would have you think.