The Munchies (a prose poem)
Shit, I've got the munchies, and I sure could go for at least five Snickers bars. I'll just put my sneakers on and head down to the gas station. Or should I? I'd like lower my A1C, and get into a better shape than I am now. But tomorrow is another day. Or is it? Another Another Day like I've been crowing since the time of sabre toothed cats. I don't remember. It's better that way. Besides, two hundred yards is too far to walk when you're making notes for jokes you'll never write. I just want to sink deep into my chair, eye closed, listening to the murmurs and bellows of Humpback Whales.