Forks

This poem made me laugh when I read it back. An ode to the other fork lickers out there. I hope I am not alone.

I like the taste of polished metal forks imprinting my tongue with its tines.
That is why I licked the fork in the road that spread before me.
Hard metal has a way of opening your eyes to the last supper.
He never understood my desire to lick forks.
His desire was to stab.
But, I play nicely with forks.
It is the only way to eat cake.

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