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Walkin' thru the grocery store section,
To that aisle, yeah, it's not just con-cession...
Turn every crunch into Hea-ven, -yeah
(Oh, you are...)
Crun-chee on the coldest day
Taste buds explode, every, 'kind-of-way'
Make me wanna savor every moment of cheese-y, slow-ly
You pleasure me, my taste, taste buds, you put it on!
Got the taste-y, know how to turn it on...
The way I nibble on a pair, a clutch of fried corn, not an ear...
I take it easy, baby, so we can last long!

Oh! you, you feel crunchy 'in-my-mouth,' salivated,
not full...
Mouth like tasting, like an,
an amazing plan
Feel your taste, my mouth a pulse-Oh!
Oh, yeah -Ya, ya me in store aisle,
so nor-mal
Tostitos and Doritos, I say No Mas!
And so, no chip will, will replace you!

Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!

Please respect, it's just Cheetos,
No, no, I don't want no Doritos!
No matter what you ask it's not Dorit-o-os!

Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!

Nothing taste quite like Cheetos,
No Tostitos, no Doritos, nor a burrito.
I sound Spanish or Latin when I end words in a -oh,

When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
Something like, I'm not loco?
Cheetos brands, -favoritos
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to 'Eat-oh'
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -the Cheetos!

And know I voted, twice for Obam-ma,
Didn't even have, -American Mom-ma!
Car tires, Yoko-hama...
Back to my Latin voice, now, Oh-o...
You say to get that face and taste -eh he bang-bang
You say why doesn't it explodo like me mi bang-bang?
For me those chips you know there is no other
No question, fill your mouth, tongue, smother
Yo no other makes me sing it so suave
Impressive crunchy, disputes 'saliv-eh'

Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!


Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!

When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
I know...
Something like, I'm not TA-CO?
Cheetos brands, -'favor-AH-ri-tos'
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to eat no
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -some Cheetos!

Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!

This is how we do it up in Long Island,  boroughs,
No tacos, burritos and no churros
all we ever want is those Cheetos!
Ay-o no burrito

Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!

Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!

**Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Don't go nuts just because Weird Al ain't doin' it...or James Corden or Jimmy Fallon.
Austin Bauer Jun 2016
The trick with flaming hot Cheetos
Is to eat all that you want 
Before you drink any water.

If you eat some, and then drink,
And then eat some more,
Your stomach will be an ocean 

With breakers crashing to and fro
On the banks of your inner shores.
It will not feel nice, so make sure

To follow this advice; for I am, when
It comes to Cheetos, an old man who
Has for learned from my many years 

Of eating one way, and eating the other.
And I have found the better of the two,
So heed my authority.
McArthur Hunt Jr Jun 2014

Family intention
It’s amazing what one can accomplish with a little love, a pocket knife and soft words.
Frogs and crickets sing as rain drops fall.
I wasn’t creditable she wrote.
Looking ignorant optimisms make you.  No water, just the tracks of a girl becoming a lady.
The irony of that is just breathtaking.
Bear hugs, dancing on my feet, being her personal jungle gym and hot limon crunchy flamin Cheetos.
Science might contest the will, putting the blame on me
As mommy's kisses save the day
Michael W Noland Dec 2012
There is no poetry
Playing Far Cry 3
Getting cheeched
Unlocking cheivos
Eating mac and cheese
4 monsters Yo!
Chop sticks and cheetos
You need those
To keep your controller clean
We are talking about poetry

He is restricted to a black stroller
counting cheetos with
cheese-dust coated fingers
humming numbers, while
his papa leans on
his own crossed arms
eyes closing for too long
to be considered blinking

Seven cheetos

Let’s return to the poem
on page 238 in the book

now six cheetos
and five and his father
starts snoring
brooke Jan 2014
but I am a different
kind of adventurous.
even if I only dance with
others, or hit whistle notes
with Brett, even if Joe's the
only one I'd kiss without
a single regret

I love long car rides, I'll
take your shift, I'll let
you sleep an extra two hours
I love the smell of sunscreen
and graham crackers and how I've been
sitting in these shorts for too
long that there has to be
a sweat stain.

I don't know, have you ever had
cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
We'd make it to Santa Cruz on time.
I may not climb the Himalaya's with
you, or go to Paraguay because I'm
afraid of chronic diarrhea, but I am
so much more than my fears.

Have you ever had cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
(c) Brooke Otto 2014

You don't have to be everyone's perfect.
Erik McKee Feb 2018
Pecans cracking under the weight of the world,  
and Chimney's left to fight the good fight against tyranny.
And Reni is still here, rapping on the brunt of the neglected woman,
who has no face, but for the bruises, and no name but for the statistic.
They feel like unpeople
less real than Atlas holding up the bough of the sky,
more ethereal than the stolen fire of Prometheus.
But I'm born from it all: the sky, the fire, the fist of the immigrant,
the gun of the lover, husband, father, mentor.  

Charcoal leaves remain, shredded by a mower's blade.
And crimson hedge trimmings, glittering with the Fall dew,
and the sanguine spray from Eddie's cleft finger.
His contribution to the job; his payment?
Possibly. Were it given willingly, rather than taken,
forced by the circumstance of winter and fatigue,
smelling of Cheetos, tortillas and coffee.
Written after a long day of work, and a lot of bad news.
Edward Coles Jun 2016
We are a global society
When we want oranges in the fruit bowl,
When we want out of our rut
Just long enough
To brown in a patch of Spanish sun.
We are a global society
When the Japanese car breaks down
And we are in need of a cheap fix
To keep food on the table,
Some Latvian mechanic
Who helps us find our way home.

We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When the zeroes run low
And there are spaces,
Foreign faces,
To which we can point
And blame.

We are a global society
With our sweat-shop chic,
American coffee chains
Selling Colombian ground beans,
Frappuccinos in plastic cups-
Made in China
And served by a Romanian barista
In Italian heels.
We are a global society
When the demand is high
And the payment is low.

We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When hands reach out for help
And our pockets are too shallow,
Our time, too brief
To commit to a unity
We feel is dragging us down.

We are a global society
When the football is on,
When the lager is Belgian
And the supermodel, Greek.
When we cradle that bag of Cheetos
After smoking too much ****.
We are a global society
When oppression is overt,
Caricatured in bulletin posters,
Threatening to land
Upon our own front door.

We are our own nation,
An island nation,
When poverty seems contagious,
When we have to clean up
Someone else’s mess,
Still we scar the Middle East
Only half-interested in an exit.

We are a global society
When we get sick,
When we borrow another doctor
For our ailing NHS.
When cities of white people burn,
We are a global society,
When Africa is divided,
We are nowhere to be seen.
Prime mover of the commonwealth
Yet we fall beneath the breadline
And living easy is so rare.

We are our own nation,
An island nation,
Under the false flag
Of a golden age
We were conned to believe in.
Our nation, our island nation,
Lost amongst a sea of misinformation.
Michael Amery May 2014
My words are not my own,

Nor do they belong to my totem frog
Which hippity hops
His way trough my life,
Guiding me towards a metamorphosis,
From drunkard
To enlightened.
He (I) sure am taking his time,
But should/could this journey be rushed?

My poems are not the caw of the crow and/or raven,
She does not sing a song so beautiful that I am moved to purge it least it take up too much of the spare space I have inside of me.
She is my spirit guide,
Turn this way, choose that one (with the pretty smile which makes you ever so nervous),
Do not wear that ridiculous outfit,
Don't even think of-
Too late, now live with the repercussions, idiot.
A ****** of voices.

My muse tickles my lust and embraces my love
But is neither.
She/he dons many faces none of which I have ever seen.
Whimsical *****, ******* of emotional release
I do not know you!
I write your words as they come into my head.
Or I would,
If I could keep up with your maniacal laughter;
You spew nonsense rapid fire, child slaying zombies with Cheetos stained fingers,
And with all the elegance therein.

I am thankful indeed.
Chris T Sep 2014
there once was a nerd, in his pastime he led a pony herd and drank mountain dew while his patchy mustache grew, he fingered a bag or three of Cheetos and studied tuxedoes, but the point i try to point is the point that this nerd was a sir, true and fair, and how dare you put him, leave him, in the grim grim world of the friend zone?! now pick up your phone and call that mountain dew can armor wearing amour back into your life and be his wife because *** is only for the married.
This ain't done, this isn't edited. I am your God.
JM Sep 2014
I ate a whole bag of
cheetos one at a time,
savoring each cheesy bite,
and watched two seasons of
South Park as my friend tried to
hit a vein.

**** man. I got little ones, they keep rolling.

It took her hours.
Other arm

"What the **** man, why even ******* bother? Why not just smoke it like everyone else?"

******* tweakers

She says the high is worth it.

That rush, man. *******!

But really,
no matter how ****
they are,
or used to be,
nobody likes
a spun out
tweaker *****.

laura Mar 2018
fell into a hole of myself--
i know too much

a bag of cheetos in an ill-fitting suit
runs the country - made the mistake

of reading what it had to say
awhile ago

all in the stirring of a feather
my ego, my ignorance

smattering albiet aggressively in an annoying
aggregate, dog-bark bird-squacking

grating my effing ears
these 7am mornings
Babe you are worse than late night ****
Sinful like fried chocolate cake
Ironic like chicken and waffles with a diet coke
Or using lard based dressing on a salad

You bad
Like menudo without lime
Like hot cheetos to my kidneys

My desire for you is like:
That nostalgia you feel like a lump in your chest
The first time you smoked ****
The first time you came
The first time you fell in love

I’m sad cuz you ain’t here
And glad you’re far away.
Aric Wheeler May 2013
The garbage in my room
Smells like embarrassment
It’s the hot Cheetos bag that sits in my desk
It’s the q-tips with earwax
The ideas that float around in my head
And my roommates toenail clippings

The garbage in my room
Clutters the free space
Taking up room that it should not take
The shopping bags and boxes
That held beautiful things
Now empty and cumbersome

The garbage in my room
Takes up my memory
Forgotten blog posts and poems
Fill the hard drive in my brain
Silly thoughts and quips
Only attempt to clear it out

The garbage in my room
Sits in the can
Thinking of ways to grow
Out of proportion
Waiting to spill out onto the floor
And start crawling up the walls

The garbage in my room
Needs to be taken out.
Britni Ann Feb 2018
What is it like living with an eating disorder?
It’s living every day in fear of the food around you.
You have to eat, it's a biological need.
It's around the dinner table where people get to know each other,
It's how people care for others, bringing meals, making favorites.  
And when you don't eat people get suspicious and ask questions.  
It’s is living with a life revolved around weight loss pills, laxatives, and trying to puke as quietly as you can because you couldn't think of a good enough excuse to say no.
You puke to punish your body for it's biological need for food.
You binge on Cheetos or cookie dough, let it satisfy your hunger for an hour or so and then you puke it up because you shouldn’t have even looked at the food.
Life with an eating disorder is weight scales and the clothes you used to fit and the ways you hide your dramatic weight loss.
It’s telling your body to shut up, forcing your stomach to stop whaling because it wants food and, throwing them off a cliff into the ocean.
It’s putting on a smile after you came out of the bathroom puking your guts out pretending you had to take a shower or you had a really big ****.
its the voices in your head telling you, "you are ugly" "you are fat"
It's not being able to tell those voices to shut up and they consume you.
It’s making excuses and trying to decide how long you can get away with the same one like “oh I ate at home.” “oh I ate earlier.” “oh we’re actually getting something to eat no thanks.” It’s seeing how much water you can drink to get rid of your hunger just to give you some peace of mind.
That’s an eating disorder.
That’s me.
The poem is called Fairies to take attention away from the poem. What so many girls tend to do. At least thats what I do...
Shallow Mar 2018
Orange, light, crunchy
Consume hand-made calories
Gone to then digest
October Nov 2013
Cause we all need a
little humor in our lives:

Cheetos and coffee
can't let these assignments stop me
cause it's a hard knock life
being a student tryin' to get it right
protestin' those late nights
and drownin' in the red bull,
give me wings
& prepare my *** for finer things
Kieran Mar 2019
If you ride the wind,
Or at least motor yourself,
On a schooner out to ten pound island,
You may have the luxury of meeting Mooch.
He is the seagull who likes Cheetos.
Life for Mooch is simple,
All he has to do is sit on the arm of Owen,
The boy who pulls the sails
Or Captain Harold,
The man who built the boat,
And eat enough Cheetos to stuff his throat.
He never tells any of his friends,
For fear of missing out on Cheetos.
Oh, to be a seagull.
Oh, to mooch off of others
And still be loved.
Written about a trip in Gloucester harbor on a schooner.
Ari White Nov 2013
hold my mind
it feels like soaked cheetos
puffy and orange
my feet are calloused with thought
and i have been stringing along ties
with too many people

hold my head

as i think about the men i meet in transition
instability in the back of a kit kat bar
and Los Angeles literature
because disappointment bends the broken
the soft cranium crunch
split to be eaten
but built to be shared

hold my thoughts

because im falling asleep in elevators
no longer able to choose the floor
save me from the ponder
from putting bottle caps on shelves
the gravity of my fingertips keeps lighting candles upside down
creating limitless space and
useless entities

hold my belongings so my brain can breathe

because unlike my mouth it cannot reach
you are my deep breath
pudding melted in my lungs
ill have an affair with the Wonka man
just to keep me from loving you
he could store me in one of his rooms
drown me with the a heavy chest
of something dark and semisweet

hold my body and steal my soul

because i group anything you sphere
and my life keeps changing all the love i need
Lightbulb Martin May 2014
This is
Almost all.

12 bites chocolate koala crispies
Chris along with some horizon
fat-free organic milk
but again 12 bytes.
Short stack flapjacks
Safeway maple syrup drenching it.

Patrick's IRA send it
One hot fudge sundae
from McDonald's
one half bite of hot fudge.
Six bytes of salsa recipe.
Four microwaved Chinese potstickers
Some HighC
orange lovers
I also ate Mark's soup

25 Cheetos
I also ate some
of my accent.

One can Wolfgang Puck
used as a base
added some roasted
breast chopped
roughly 2 wings
scanner on onion
red rock refrigerator
did an onion
rings tile cut.

Think I know I'm
sorry sweetie
they are kind.
J McDevitt Jun 2013
Deep inside the heart collides
With the majesty that is the sun.
And polyps grow on feet below -
Where the grandeur is forced to shun.

Grey gritty gravel gets jammed
Between my toes,
And flies through a rolled up twenty
To stay wedged far in my nose.

If sinus’s are clogged like pours,
Scratched by a Cheetos finger,
The rocks get stuck and Id mocks
While the crush starts to linger;

Numbs the cavity where inside lives
A thousand hungry hippies
Sitting still until they see
A cloud up on a water lily.

So set out to feed their queen bee
Whom lives inside the skull
(And) demands, commands, yearns and pleads
To feel that numbing null.
Madison Brooke Nov 2015
oh, my god,
stop praising little girls for being "tiny" and "slender" and "willowy"
for being skinny.

because the scale offers validation
and eating cheetos and twizzlers and cookies and candy without gaining a pound becomes an accomplishment
a sharp and boasting laugh
ha, ha! i can eat all the **** i want
and still be /skinny!/

because a girl will feel pride
in her ballerina legs and bony joints
and guilt
in her best friend wishing she were as small.

because "skinny" stops being an adjective
and becomes a definition.

because being skinny becomes
owning stacks and stacks of size zero jeans
but ******* and shimmying and squeezing your *** into them
(god forbid you buy a size two.)

skinny becomes looking flat in the midsection
but only if you eat triscuits for lunch that day

becomes seeing the outlines of individual ribs
but grabbing with a grimace the layer of fat and skin that covers them

becomes standing with legs spread apart and back tilted and eyes squinted
and looking maybe kind of like a forever 21 model,
until you sit and your thighs melt into huge endless expanses of tissue

becomes avoiding the bathroom scale because you told yourself two years ago you'd never get above double digits.

becomes knowing that most girls would **** for your body, or for the absence of your body - for the carved out spaces where flesh could be.

becomes feeling guilty, feeling ridiculous, feeling ungrateful
becomes never admitting to anyone that you feel anything but skinny.
nina Oct 2020
bagong taon na
‘di pa rin kita mabitawan
pero paano kita iiwasan
kung ika’y laging hanap-hanap?

bawat galaw, bawat araw
ika’y pinapagisipan
kahit sinulat ko sa talaarawan
na ika’y lilimutin na

lagi kong minamasdan
ang ningning **** pang bituin
palagi akong nabibitin
sa mga saglit na ika’y kasama

ang saya ng pagmamahal
ngayon ko lang naunawaan
siya’t sigla nararamdaman
tuwing tayo’y magkasama

minsan ako’y napapaisip
“‘di ba kita mapapala?”
at hinihiling ko kay bathala
na makamtan ka muli

minsan ito’y natutupad,
karaniwan ay hindi
kaya lagi akong nauuwi
sa muni-muni’t panaginip
Lightbulb Martin May 2014

12 bites chocolate koala crispies
Chris along with some horizon
fat-free organic milk
but again 12 bytes.
Short stack flapjacks
Safeway maple syrup drenching it.

Patrick's IRA send it

1 hot fudge sundae
from McDonald's.
1/2  bite of hot fudge
4 bites soft serve.

6 bytes of salsa recipe.
4 microwaved Chinese
potstickers some
HighC orange lovers

I create Mark's suit.

1 can Wolfgang Puck
used as a base
added some chicken
******* roasted
chopped roughly
Spoon cut.

2 wings
25 Cheetos
I also ate
my accent.

Scan him some onion
red rock ringed
Reiterate Beings
tile cut.

Think I know I'm
sorry sweetie
they are kind

Of sinking.
Overwhelmed Dec 2011
we were brave once

but we were told
to be sensitive
and empathetic
and walk a mile
in another’s shoes

and now ignorance
is mistook for brilliance,
and the only risks we
take involves which
flavor of cheetos
we get from the
gas station

we were great once,
I remind you
ketashia Mar 2019
I ate them as a child
Dunking them in water
Because they were too spicy to swallow
Almost like burning coals
Still, I ate them because you did

I ate them in middle school
As we passed the bag back and forth
Between us during math
Knowing if caught
It would be goodbye
To the bag, we both chipped in to buy

I ate them freshman year
Our first football game
While you stared at the cheerleader
In the skirt and high ponytail
Later on, you´d show me the texts
And I would pretend
Not to care too much

I ate them just a year ago
Sitting at my table doing homework
Watching the new
Your car was suddenly on screen
I knew before the reporter even said it
You were dead

I eat them now
As I type a poem about you
You hated poetry
How ironic
As I reach for another
I could've sworn
I felt your hand
Bump against mine
J May 2016
"paint images with your words"

Rusted, bunked beds
empty takeout boxes,
blankets too small to contain both bodies
so hands and feet were always cold.

mascara on bags under eyes,
beard still has bedhead at 1pm
it smells like latex and rough *** and pineapple soda
when is the last time we showered?
your hair is matted, that's hard for short hair to do unless it's been days

you might have pork fried rice in your teeth
and that is kind of disgusting to me
but you are still smiling

I tried to mask the beer farts
with georgia peach perfume
but all we got was tired, half coughs,
from the spongebob themed room we resided it.
We kind of claimed it, didn't we?
The owner of that bed left on Friday afternoons,
soon before we would arrive and plant ourselves deep
in blue and yellow sheets
that still smelled like cheetos and action figures
I think those were your old ones (the dolls, not the cheetos of course)

The tv always had that low, mumbling buzz
we always turned it up and watched forensic files
in boxers and bikinis
until 3am or whenever we fell asleep
and we never complained
we never asked for anything more
than for someone to shut the door
so we could make forts together on the floor
with the same blue and yellow sheets
that I really miss right now
Hank Helman Aug 2015
Chasey calls them the dead mama blues.
There's sadness, she says, mine has a scent to it;
Despair, a shabby **** who mugs me under my covers
On winter days at dawn,
Catatonia, which only a messy bed,a ****,a bag of Cheetos and a boy can cure,
And then way down from there,
Squatting *** close to the ground,
Smoking Gauloises in the dark,
Live the dead mama blues.

The only cure for the dead mama’s, Chasey explains,
Is a blood rare steak and Etta James greatest hits on vinyl,
Played quiet through the sweet spot of the night,
All the lights off, the dishes done and dry.

Helps if a sister has a slim hip man to dance with, she said,
So if you ain’t runnin’, the grill’s on me.
Come by sober any time after moon rise, Chasey yawned,
Cause this girl could use a shoulder and a polite hand.

And bring your slippers, she said
Easier to shuffle over **** in sheepskin, plus
We might go up on the roof later on
And smoke some of my cubans for a while.

Door will be open, so please don’t ring,
Hell what am I saying, you know the path.
Chasey yawned again, a big one,
Waited a few seconds because there was nothing else to say
And hung up the phone with a sigh.
Chris La Mar May 2017
Cheetos, Fritos, Doritos,
Taquitos, Burritos, Con Amigos

Enchilada, Chimichanga, Bahama Mama
La Bamba, Con La Banda, Da Dun Da
No mi speak-o mexicana

Zoom, Vroom, Doom in a Room reading Hume

Boat, Moat, Coat, Tote
Tote my Goat in your Coat
Please do not fall in the Moat

Pool, Cool, Drool, Fool
Don’t be a fool and drool in the pool
Don’t be a fool in the pool, be cool
The pool is cool when fools don’t drool in the pool
The cool pool was full of that fool’s drool
Drool Pool
Get in the Pool, Fool!
Be cool with your drool, fool- you’re right by the pool

Tall, Fall, Ball, Mall
You’re tall, you should ball
Leave this mall, it’s going to fall on your ball
Your ball is in the mall
Fall on my ball and I will maul you in the mall
All that is tall is going to fall
The tall man stood on the ball in the mall
Sam Moore Jan 2014
put the key in the ignition, the car into drive, and all your gross post-*** insecurities to the back of your mind. forget you don’t have a license. forget she’s asleep in the bed that knows your panic attacks like they’re a late-night tv special and roll out onto the road - don’t hit the neighbor’s buick - drive. drive.

take the route you used to sneak over to your boyfriend’s house in 7th grade. feel the ghosts of his hungry pubescent hands under your bra, get that old lump in your throat, wish you could go back in time and scream that you weren’t ready and that you’d never be ready and that one day you’ll be seventeen driving down his street hating the way he used to own you. remember that his street is also your street. remember that you’re worth owning things too.

pass by the house your best friend used to live in, back when summers meant hot cheetos and horchata instead of cigarettes and cheap sangria. pray that one day you’ll be that way again, happy and fearless and okay with being alone. scold yourself for praying.

forget where you’re going until your stomach growls and the road gets narrow. then keep driving.
Rebecca Oct 2020
There is a hole in her core she must sate.
So, she drives to the grocery store before it’s too late.

She steers the cart in search
of junk food.
She spots a case of cupcakes that can ease her mood.

Powdered donuts on a shelf she can reach.
Next, she chooses Bottled sodas, she packs up five each.

Muffins, Doritos, Cheetos, Funyuns and Snickers she will par-take.
She must not forget about the Little Debbie snack cakes.

Once the cashier starts scanning her vittles,
She starts to feel a tingly rush form in her middle.

She pays her fee then rushes to her vehicle parked afar
Then unloads the groceries on the passenger seat of the car.

As she sits behind her steering wheel.
She appraises her edible saviors, then makes her appeal

She starts with the Snickers shoving them down her throat,
The empty void inside her fills as she lets out a choke.

The Funyuns and muffins are next on her seat.
She devours them in seconds, puffing up her cheeks.

Doritos, Cheetos and snack cakes are inhaled like oxygen,
She is slightly starting to feel whole again.

The cupcakes are the last morsels of her stock
She washes them down with the soda she bought.

When the food is gone she observes the food wrappers in her space.
She glances in the rearview mirror but fails to recognize her face.

Powdered sugar and Cheeto dust crusting around her lips,
A sob escapes her chest as sanity begins to slip.

There is one more mission she must forgo
Opening her car door, she shoves a finger down her throat.

***** is released from her belly’s lair.
Stomach acid and bile sting the night air.

She appraises the regurgitation splattered on the concrete.
Then senses the empty void is gone, her task is completed
If you are someone you know is suffering from an eating disorder please visit or Phone number is (800) 931-2237
Fah Sep 2013
Femme Fatal , seduced by ulterior
motives, the truthful warrior
Kills with peaceful intention
but it is only wicked nonchalance
to; day to day ferocities that mimic hard time , war time , conventions

Lemon yellow pieces of firefly bisquits
Rain down from the fogged fetters.
haze- in soft beat

Where sunshine, headlights on fusion cars (expell) expose
the water particles

Suspended in animation - falling- in
slow motioned elegance
like after a shower with the doors and windows closed
the soupy soup soup
of swimming in wavey air...
Andrew T May 2016
A recent BBC Headline reads: US orders ban on trans-fats. In a day when fat-discrimination has been thought to have stopped, the US is discriminating against the fine and upstanding obese community. Eliminating trans-fats from food will save lives by preventing heart attacks, but it will also eliminate fat jokes, which will set back standup comedy for years to come. Health experts say that Americans continue to consume too much foods with trans-fats, even with trans-fats information labeled on food; in scientific studies done by Dr. Kazuo Takitani, research shows that Americans "Do Not Give A ****" about their health due to entitlement and fatty privilege. Taking trans-fats out of food will reduce coronary heart disease, but it will also make fat people who are stupid more confident, not necessarily smarter. Supporters of French Fries have taken to the streets and are calling on President Obama to stop the War on trans-fats. The Obama administration has responded with a statement in regards to the trans-fat crisis, and have said, "Go To The Gym." Obese people are in danger of becoming skinny, and already the obese population of the United States, are hoarding Cheetos and pizza rolls in their ***** packs, in order to stop the madness. In this day and age, health is a choice, skinny and **** people, the ones who are supporting the ban on trans-fats, do not know the irreparable damage they are doing to the fat American white male, who's narrative will always be ingrained in the American consciousness. A chubby boy named Paulie was interviewed earlier today as he was eating French fries and a large soda: "The government doesn't care about Fat people. We deserve better treatment. We matter. We exist. How am I supposed to survive without Mickey D's fries? Do I look like I can exercise? I'm moving to Canada." When Paulie was informed that Canada was strongly thinking about following in the US's footsteps, Paulie suffered from food coma and passed out in his chair. The United States is slowly turning towards becoming healthy and fi; many people oppose this trend, while others embrace it; all that can be said is that change will shocking, can give some people a new perspective on life. Stay tuned for more details. Now here's Marcus with today's weather report.
Martin Narrod Mar 2016
The saddest day, it was yesterday.
Smoky sullen pushy congested lightless sky day.
Wrecked and weathered, gluey, obtuse and penned with
Melancholy and wanton desire. Wanting on and selling off

The Vampires and wretched thieves hibernating back in coach,
Seated in peacock-scoundrel dress. There's was the rudimentary
Yet pertinent foulness of childlike hatred, but they wore it under
Coarsely fitting suits to cover their hefty bags of ginormous fat.

Fatty ***** to scrutinize. Fatty ***** to wallow in the throes of
Dark fatty dementia.
Purses of alabaster filled with hemoglobin. Obfuscating zilch.
Scurvy on the arms, reptiles in their ears, and a million miles of
Stenchy, noisome, in glut. Wallowing, heavy and anti-professional.

Loff-less, un-catchy, unkempt, and in a clamor.
Boarish and obtrusive.
Gushy of anguish and the uncomfortable hide of rhino
Replaced for the swill excrement vetted porcine hocks of a
Kaleidoscope rich, aftermarket slug-pact for the bowels of
This century's egoes. Heavy on the cheeses, Cheetos, and Pathos.

In the hutch, a gaily brimming sunswept valley chimes
With the fruitful gaiety around the crowned Pantone TX1333 and Sienna heads that does keep. Homes are heavier, heaving the shrills.
Archaic muted cries of childhood, upsetted tummies serving at the Sighs of Lucifer. There are scoundrels here and in the underwear and in The water and under the water.

Frogs moo, chimney's weep, most other's Mother's have done true **** Jobs keeping their reared up to par with the others to avoid being Other'd. And our own language isn't being kept. It's undoing itself atop The bridges of mouths and the ridges of jawlines, and they have faded Swiftly, and no surrogate or custodial colloquialism has lived up to the Shadows and forethought of our greatest grandparents. And what has Your Jesus brought you except uncertainty, foul-play, and foul players And despondent and boarish chicas.

So now there you have this: brevity.
Another soft-tipped dactylic hand for undertaking.
By the end of days there will be the licking of butts,
Poor movies with Salma Hayek, and the lot of children's books
No children, not even these triplets will remember their fine names:

Tee, Bee, and Cee.
Crocus and sourdough lilies
Brimming over the nostril opera's of
These adopted gospels.
Only the ramparts of our literary apartheid and totally ******
Sexualness in kids and dults of all ages.
Grade A slovenly scholars
In agreement that we're ******* over tomorrow.
wren Aug 2014
7:14 PM //
Will you marry me?

                                                                                             7:38 PM //
        Yes. Not today though, it would be dark by the time we got home.

2:30 PM //
Marry me

                                                                                            2:35 PM //
                                                                                                     One day

6:50 PM //
Marry me

                                                                                            6:50 PM //
                                                                             I can't today, but I will

2:14 PM //
Will you marry me

                                                                                           2:16 PM //
                                                                  Yes. It's too hot today though

2:17 PM //
I got a bag of cheetos I've been trying to finish for like 3 days can we get married when I'm done with the bag

                                                                                           2:20 PM //
                                                                                         I guess we'll see

6:27 PM //
Will you marry me
                                                                                           6:28 PM //
                                      I'm not dressed well enough but yes, eventually

6:29 PM //
I'd marry you in pajamas and you'd still be absolutely stunning

                                                                                           6:30 PM //
                                                                                             You're lovely

11:42 PM //
Lets get married
                                                                                          11:43 PM //
                                                        If you insist. It's kind of late though

11:43 PM //
It's daytime somewhere

A week or so ago, I started collecting screenshots of when my girlfriend asks me to marry her, which is literally once a day. So this is what I have.
michelle reicks Dec 2011
tall and soft,
strong and low
exciting and down to earth
quiet and thoughtful
kind and sweet

so very



smells like
lying in the grass

my first boyfriend, Jimmy Brennen
whose sweatshirt always smelled of cheetos
and Axe

or the man who sat on the waterrushed rocks
and kissed me,
tongue tasting of
lake water

or when i held a girl's (Debbie's)
cupped in my hand for the first time,
pressed closely together in secret
how wonderfully soft and warm

this person

doesn't even have to

touch me

and i smile from

ear to ear
just looking at


Mike Hauser Jan 2016
A dead give away

I've been eating Cheetos

Is the bright orange powder

All over my nose
Alyssa Spungen Mar 2010
I discovered roller coasters for the first time after I saw my therapist

She told me I had
OCD, DID, ADD, and an eating
disorder She told me to keep it simple and
stop trying to please others I told her to set  herself
on fire I decide to take my damaged ***  to an amusement
park and tell the drive  I’m allowed I’m 5’4  You’re a ***** I spit
on him and jump into the car I defy gravity by myself on this tipsy turvy
future mobile I go up and into space and ride through clichés until my overalls
Snap off and set me free where I float without medication Snap out of it, you hairy
**** You never know how it feels to lose control until you’ve lost all control She never
Knew With the giant pebbles and water cascading downwards in a freefall And the terrible
feng shui that parts her massive thighs point my eyes into her pant stain while my entire head
falls down for the bottom A sick endless cycle of torture just like    
the Mexican chanting annual melodies
…at a Tucson establishment
…sitting on truck tables at the doctor’s office
…cutting off DNA into style
…fighting off fever with drive by flu shots
So I count to 5
while I
make hot cocoa
And tap the doorway
I try on 4 different pairs of pants
eat an entire bag of Cheetos and
throw up
It’s all situational and relative and ridiculous
I don’t care if some 14 year old wears orange lipstick and
***** off her math teacher

Tell me Doctor what’s the diagnosis for my sick bluish foot
Oh you’re right I guess I do need to vacate the premises
The Land of the Lepers exists and we have renamed it “America”

— The End —