Another Wistful Poem About Heartbreak
Nope! This poem hates poems
about heartbreak and its derivatives:
all the mewking and sniffling,
all the tears and self-pity.
This poem is about Cheetos,
those delectably toxic snacks,
those crispy, orange cheese poofs
all irregular and twisted. Never,
said Heraclitus, can a Cheeto
be eaten twice, for each is unique
in length, shape, and weight,
not to mention the depth of cheese-dust
gently powdering its salty surface.
So while those other poems go on crying
and whimpering to godless skies,
this one makes a crunch
like a roach crushed by a heavy boot.