Metamorphosis
Inspired by Profesor Nutty
The square TV drones in front of me,
while a roman soldier probes my ribs
with the spear of Longinus.
A pint of ice cream pours out from my left ribcage,
like a bountiful river.
I touch my pierced cardboard skin,
and vanilla scent impregnates my bloated fingers.
I scoop the ice cream from my own lung, while
I watch a fat Eddie Murphy become “fatzilla,”
and terrorize the city of Angels in his quest for a chicken leg.
I pulled my ribs open, and dig
deeper with my hands
into my bloated guts.
Once I get to the bottom of the pint box,
I see my own sad face staring at me
from the bottom of the container.
After a small wink, my two faces merge
and my body is drained into the icecream box,
and it all goes back to black from there.
I wake up with cat hair in my mouth,
while the sun harasses my eyes.
I wash up, put a half-dry, half-wet bagel in my mouth,
jump to the bus and go to class,
Not really remembering what I did last night, but the hands holding the metal bar are puffy and inflamed
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