I am eating up time
as if it were French silk pie.
This morning has been a lousy father
and an even worse mother.
I hate my belly,
but I keep eating French silk pie
bite by bite.
One slice should be
but I stab shoulds
with a King size fork.
Whoever heard of chocolate suicide?
Ask a million large ladies and gentlemen,
or me, a thin man, Woody Allenish,
in civil war with self.
I join their eating campaign
like General Sherman plowing through
Georgia, which brings me back
to my father, and his home state.
The last thing he ate
was French silk pie.