pub. 6-23-23 - 232 words

On my kitchen island
We’ve prepared a delectable feast
Any food you could imagine
A repast fit for a beast

Colorful grapes
In red, white, and blue
And I’m not totally sure
But I think that there might be some wine in
	the back, too

On my kitchen island
Your reflection can be seen
Gaze at the refractions
And the Pacific’s crystalline gleam

It isn’t so hard
To watch from afar
Yet the Coast Guard gets in their feeble heads
That this island’s not rightfully mine

On my kitchen island
The monkeys make the hors d’oeuvres
And the sirloin steak
Is cooked by the tropical birds

And that’s just the start
Course one out of five
Over there’s the hippopotami
Whipping up the chicken and fries

We live a quiet life
Unaffected by mortal strife
There is no need for a wife
When you make love to the wildlife

One thing about which I could complain
Is the tread on my domain
By those who cause much disdain
The gluttons for carnage, the bringers of pain,
	the United States Internal Revenue Service

Oh, my kitchen island
Has been illegally seized
They’re going to turn it for profit
And murder all of the trees

Oh, what an injustice
And now I’m in hospice
That’s why you don’t trust this
Criminal government, which controls all of our
	guns and our press and our thoughts