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Pi (e) Day Sestina

being the recollection of a conversation between myself as I was trying to enjoy a piece of 
pie and my suddenly irrational, demanding, and surprisingly bilingual stomach on 3/14

I really want a frosted sugar cookie right now.
Now, don’t think I’m loca
but if you don’t get me one I’m going to get Chuck
Norris to roundhouse kick you in the face.  His lust
y pectorals: tan, hairy and torsional, will be but a blur in your memory.  Never underestimate 
the power of the one who can even make pi
a rational number.  Oh irrational love of sugar cookies!  I can almost taste the sweet buttery 
goodness of the frost

ing melting in my mouth like the frost
y ice crystals busy changing states of matter now
on top of the piece of pie
hastily served to you before properly thawed at the loca
l diner, piled high with enough fake whipped cream to satiate even the lust
iest of appetites.  “Who would chuck, even if they could chuck, would chuck

away such a flawless embodiment of pre-prepared, packaged, processed, passed off as 
home-cooked goodness in favor of a stale cookie, and on Pi(e) Day nonetheless?” you chuck
le.  That snide remark is deserving of the bestowal of my best Queen Frost
ine stare, you know, cold and queenly and vaguely reminiscent of  the Candyland character 
with the same name, whose (il)lust
riousness is matched solely (not only in beauty but also in sugar content) by that of a frosted 
sugar cookie.  I hope you (k)now  
how to take a hint.  No?  Well, then get that pie-filled fork out of my face while I spell it out 
for you.  Loca
te a frosted sugar cookie for me pronto!  This piece of pie

disgusts me!  I don’t care that it’s pi
day!  You’ve got 3.14 seconds to get me a frosted sugar cookie before I up-chuck
all over everything in this immediate loca
le!  Don’t make me get all Frost
y the snowman on you now
and have a meltdown!  Wow, I need to stop and take a deep breath.  I’m making myself 
extremely (f)lust
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