cradled in a stranger's hand.
My base temptation at once was riled,
the sight was near too much to stand.
And I thought to snatch it from their grasp
if only so I could briefly clasp,
that beautiful black bowl.
Because my salad loving soul
longs with every single beat,
to fill that bowl with cheese, and beets.
But in my heart I couldn’t steal,
that patron’s hard-earned bowlfor I would know how it would feel
to exist with a bowl-shaped hole
in your lunch-time routine.
For my life has quite sadly been
bereft of the bowl so black,
and my daily trips to Just Salad lack
the ecstasy of that ebon dish.
O, to have one is my dearest wish.
Ye Just Salad deities, if you are truly just
teach me how this bowl is earnedI’ll do anything that I must.
These months, each day at lunch I’ve yearned,
to take the vessel to Just Salad
and sing a tender loving ballad
to my black-bowl of kale.
And now we must ask at the end of my tale,
will it be one of pain or pleasure?
Will I ever find a bowl, that I can truly treasure?
This is truly an epic for our age. I love it. A longing for a thing that should be so attainable, but it's not, because we are confused beasts who are sometimes too scared to ask simple questions like "how do I get one of them there bowls."
ReplyDeleteAND HE DID GET ONE OF THEM BOWLS! Tayyyyyy
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