I’ve gripped a bagel curve or two before,
And though they all have let me get my fill,
As soon as each one’s gone I just crave more,
Which leaves me in a battle of the will;
For I know I could trace these lines all day,
Caressing them with fingers, lips and tongue,
Live out my years in fresh-baked ecstasy,
‘Til one day I’m no longer fresh and young;
Then, belly full and burping, I’d look back,
At all the onioned rings around my life,
And wonder, did this excess cause some lack,
In love shown to my friends, my kids, my wife?
Such thoughts provoke an emptiness profound,
Yet my mind can’t prevent them spinning round.
