The cannibals all said
I am not fit to eat –
too old and stringy, too
gamey, not handsome enough
Is this what is meant
by pot luck? I am out
of hot water but thank
goodness you are still
sweet on me, I’m still
to your taste, you chased
me for years was I
fast food? I'm your tall drink
And supersized feet,
your happy meal with
love the free toy –
its hot wheels and
Wind up vroom (Woah! Not
appropriate for all ages!)
the two of us a moveable
feast until the time
Comes we celebrate our
Last Supper. Like children
we're still skipping rocks across
the stone soup of graves
For Shay’s Word Garden
qbit 
This is so clever and made me smile. I especially like stanzas two and three.
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Lol! Thanks!
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Cracking up here, despite the more somber ending. Cannibals! Happy Meals with toy! Haha!
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Hahahahaha! Yes, and it only cost me a finger before the cannibals spit it out and let me go.
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I enjoyed this lighthearted poem so much. So many wonderful lines. Smiling. A welcome note in dark times. Loved it.
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Let’s see…stone…pot…but no paraphernalia. Maybe it is about soup. The stew we so often find ourselves in. Fast food in MAHA? Tsk tsk, Randall!
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Hahaha! Indeed.
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Wonderful, qbit! So lighthearted and yet deeply romantic underneath it all. I especially enjoyed:
“I’m your tall drink / And supersized feet”
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Thanks!!
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