Lunch-time at 3:44
as rising sriracha roosters out exhaled breath
of cheddar crunched fingers wrapped in absorbent textile.
Zip-locked apple skins the roof of the mouth;
crisp, clean, brushing of the teeth decay
from the orchids of mother's soft spoken hand.
We'll all hydrate the humidity and
drench in vitamin D until cancer sticks
to the focus of our stomach and rots
the sticky juice of gum, that couldn't save
your breath anyway.
The ending is very nice way to sum of the piece. I enjoyed the more obscure ways to speak of the consumption of the food. The vitamin D im not sure where its coming from whether its outside or with lunch. "white down the tongue" sounds strange to me. I think it could be reworded. Overall it is a good image of lunchtime.
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