The Thinking Back Buffet

dipping jumbo shrimp in my clam chowder soup becoming lost in thought when i did not even have a collection of pennies water fountain hunting was my very difficult means of survival everything turns yellow in my visual view spots and polka dots lead to a tunnel so blue black dark when i come to, my right hand ends up in a toilet full of soggy, used toilet paper my hand dripping pungent toilet water on the floor, i stumble to the sink when i wash my hands, my reflection in the mirror points to my red eyes devoid of adequate rest along with the rest of my body my words are slurred and my self esteem is a clogged pipe dream i walk out of the store and back to my car where i collapse while blank-faced rather than wanting to die, i yearn to get away however the constipated monkey on my back keeps me here all my wishes have turns to mush by way of mallet startled back to reality somehow, i feel the warm, freshly made clam chowder soup dripping down my finger after gulping it down, i take a big bit of my honey buttered yeast roll i stifle a cry that i feel coming on i find motivation staring excitedly at the mexican rice and the bourbon street chicken on the other plate the lemon cream pie does not look too bad either now i never forget to count my blessings growth while getting older is like water refreshingly forming icicles on the ribcage