Thoughts While Strangling

by on March 7th, 2015
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Choking on a crunchy Cheeto
While a dozen people heard my kvetching,
Looking up from their hiding holes,
“It’s just him,” they said, “still bitching.”

Each expecting me to be gracious,
Just thankful they noticed at all,
While hanging on my uvula curvaceous
A sticker burr the size of my balls.

Retching and spewing my head spun in rage.
It’s been a good life in spite of my ways
Having such friends for a man of my age,
Eyes of such sweetness, while mine are ablaze.

One last cough should do it for me —
I’ve had my chances to die for a cause —
To go like this would make people see
Dining while grumbling has too many flaws.

My last deep breath would be do or die.
My innards are summoned to complete the task —
Yellow clumped projectiles on the cubicle nearby,
“Of course, I’m fine. What makes you ask?”

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