Weird poem that was brewing in my head for a couple weeks.
A few stools down
I keep thinking about you, for some reason
You were sitting a few stools down from me
At Alex's, on the Corner of Main and, shit, Civic Center Plaza turns into...
Anyway, you were eating something, laboriously
Did you have your teeth in? Or, well, what's going on in there?
It's a motion of the jowls, the lips, like they're loose
Old men and women in cartoons talk and eat like you do
Flappy cheeks, awkward chewing, are you gumming your food?
Then I waited on your sister the other night
She had a grease stain on her morbidly large tits
The broccoli cheese soup was "not what I thought it would be"
I know she's penny-pinching, but she's not getting it free
She ate half of it, after eating two small mountains of salad bar
All the more reason to find some serious dental coverage
I've got some cavities and, sorry but, I don't want to end up like you
No offense, but do you have a job? Do you brush your teeth?
You must have some source of income
You and your sister are dining out
I guess I should feel lucky to be sitting in this office
Business casual, making $10 an hour
But I hate it - you want it?
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