the kitchen.

[shakespearjrthe3rd]

i drift in an eary space
my mind wanders in an ethereal sense
im hearing a swallowed hark in my heart
by im hearing a hallowed heated hark 

if i scream i wont lie
or will i cry as i die
hit the fly
eat my eye
i cant live any longer

but i am nary hopeful. 
or must i grasp the heart ive lost
or do i smell the fresh cooking
oh, im here, in the kitchen


yes
yes
im in the kitchen
im cooking it up
my hero awaits
im creating a chance to win
im cooking up. a W.

thats when she walks in 
i was in the kitchen of my heart
she, in the kitchen of my house
braless
she brings me chicken nuggets
i didnt ask for it
but i will recive it

as i dish out
a victory royal.

[Alexandria Bouchelli Mozzarell]

The build up to the end result is something to be marvelled at. That being said WOW WAS THAT A PILE OF SHIT

[anirbas]

Having another clap! Clap! Clap! moment sitting here
in the flight seat of my desk chair at my desk top
peering at the monitor. Read this in my head and again,
out loud to myself. Bouchelli is spot on.
The end result is something to be marveled at.

However, the entire poem is marvelous.