it's time for christmas baking
whether you know how to or not
the thing you must remember
is that the oven gets quite hot

it's not that i'm an imbesile
or that my mind is set on slow
there's things 'bout christmas baking
that everyone should know

turning up the temperature
will not make things bake much quicker
and you'll never get your baking done
if you start hitting the liquor

liquor helps but not that way
it's for the food you bake, not you
because the first drink goes down so smooth
it always tastes like two

cookies from the oven
are best when iced while hot
cakes though get quite messy
if they're cooler...i forgot

my icing stuck to everything
it even melted on my cat
the dog thought fluffy was his treat
and that my friends was that

metal in the microwave
makes great sparks but doesn't cook
in fact it's quite explosive
if you take the time to look

peanut butter rollups
are easy and look cool
but with so many kids allergic
you can't sell them at the school

the best way to do baking
is to buy them from the store
put them on a plate you own
and don't say any more

if people want the recipe
say it's secret, you can't tell
you're granny took it to her grave
besides, they all do this as well

take my advice on baking
don't bake if you can buy
because you'll never get it perfect
no matter how you try.

8 days after
my birthday,
i couldn't breathe
as i took a
swim test
with my friends
and failed;
but that doesnt matter,
for now i know
that he couldn't breathe either.

justice for eric garner

I Can't Breathe
Suffocating
In a country
That could give
A good *******
About me.
Drowning in a society
That doesn't see the signs.
That doesn't believe
That the darker brother
Has the right to justice.
That simply condones
The mistreatment
Of an entire group of
Human beings.
I tried to walk away.
I tried to surrender.
It didn't  matter
Because now
I really can't breathe.

Ashamed of my complexion,
Ashamed of all the words,
Ashamed to show my innards,
Ashamed of all the long nights
and the actions that took place,
Ashamed of the women I fed empty promises,
Ashamed of every goodbye,
Ashamed by the way it all played out,
Ashamed of the confidence I carried,
Ashamed of the crown I wore,
Ashamed of the mirror,
Who am I,
and what is left of me?