There once was a farmer from Cork
Who fell on a frumious fork:
     It punctured the ***
     Where he kept his bad gas
Made mostly from cabbage and pork.

Tiny cheesecake
You are such a delight
A tiny morsel
Three bites all mine
Once I find that pesky fork of mine

My path ahead, troubled;
through the blankets of snow, I plod.
I find myself in the wood,
boughs shrouded in fog.

The mist like a fever,
weighing down my soul.
I come to the fork in the road,
where I dither and brood.

Awake, yellow sun!
Cast your rays of light.
Rid me from this veil,
my peril, and plight.

Sweet mornings song,
notes carried through the wind.
My path now clear,
no struggle within.

you,
gentle beast
touching my skin like King Midas

me,
excavating your iced eyes and
devouring them raw with tenderness
and overindulgence

I have run from you
one time too many
Finding myself out in the open,
There aren't too many places
to hide.
I've slid between the spaces of your fork
now you have me pinned,
I have run from you one time too many
I hope that you have mercy on me.
Along the lines of patience
I realize that mercy may be asking too much
But until now I've realized how big your teeth
really are.
With no place to run & your fork fast-ly
approaching there is no where else on this plate
to run.
I have run from you one time too many
and after tasting your lips
I question myself
Why did I run in the first place

can i introduce
your windpipe
to my gold fork

As History falls
Onto his blood strewn path
He meets a Fork In The Road
Between Take
And Be Taken
So instead
He jumps into the Rabbit Hole
To stop Time
And repeat himself

Life is a soup
and I am a fork
how life slips
and drips on the floor

Yeah, it’s a mess