Tooth-fairy agnostics wear calluses
on atheist funny bones.
While the choir harmonizes
spare change with children at play,
the fence-sitting cracks up
a dumpy hump at Notre Dame.
But the homage-paying chumps
bury beneath a leather pillow
any white-picket smile
on a sad scientist who won’t
turn back on fact for fancy.
The angel feathers resting heads
on delusion never tickle
reasonable people. The thinkers
tinker titanium by the closet door
until the doubters forge ahead.
Fixed Menu
Caked on plates,
food finishes feasters.
Shovelers earn early:
feed the furnace
and walk around the holes in the ground.
The payoff promises to go on forever
with daily investments
in executive bathrooms.
Good luck sacrificed
to the scavenger gods.
Good luck sacrificed
to the scavenger gods.
Mutton gluttons sop up the fat;
fishy family members
break the ice on conversation,
while vegan pork chops
munch on bunches.
Dirty dishes dig grave grooves
and grimaces into parties
well until the evening.
Just desserts wait on tables
to make room in the inn.
The last belches from plastic containers
lay the hedonists low,
and restive eaters squirm
to celebrate steaks in the land.