you squeezed it from its little packet
onto your glazed doughnut  
mindlessly committing culinary blasphemy  
without a sound  
others did not notice  
until they saw the yellow remnants
on your red wax lips  
they said nothing  
for their rapt attention was on the boss  
who chattered on about grand ideas  
while you guiltlessly chewed and swallowed  
I missed nothing  
for your bold foray
into comestible “paradigm shifts”  
was of far more interest to me  
than the inflated business at hand    
like sweet custard on a Frito pie  
your mustard caught my eye  
and had me pondering
the elusive mysteries
of  mind and mouth
while others gazed at our leader’s clean moving lips  
untroubled by their enchantment