When my good bud Doug
sprinkled Desenex
like an Okie dust storm
under Southwestern
bible belt you straight to hell
if’n you ain’t born again
cloud canopy
and into the blue bowl
full of Aunt Claire’s
seven minute creamy frosting,
I knew the cat was a keeper
not just some slumbering
Rip Van Winkled
lazy ass sleeper.
Juxtaposing confectionery sugar
with athlete’s foot powder,
creative prowess
stirred and mixed with
financial consciousness,
a combination sublime,
finished product
delectable nectar
feeding the gods’
incessant cravings,
fungal remover for the toes,
throat and pink soles,
taste buds made whole,
bake and shake
angel food cake,
sing along strong,
Oh, My My
JELLYROLL!
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