Figurative Food

Once upon a time

My mind became a mashed potato

And I fell asleep in peanut butter

Only to dream of bacon bits

(The non-artificial kind)

And my greasy fingers failed to grasp

The passing powdered donut

That rolled on in a rather relaxed manner

Only to disappear behind the oxtail soup,

Which wafted the delicious odor of onions

Through the

Abnormally arbitrary airspace

Where adverbs and adjectives

Had use and meaning

and relevance and reason.

So I found myself using words
Like volant and volubly

Until the overproduction

Of thoughts

Distilled a decadent mental vodka

Which I poured out of my
eye sockets
into shot glasses for myself

and the powdered donut which

I had intended to find and befriend

For further adventures in this

Autonomous airspace