Lunch

Please

let me get my robe

and we will

look at this

turning floating globe 

do me a favor

and

crook a bite

because

I am faint

and

aint gonna munch

any of my lunch

You will smite

clucky

Kentucky

and then 

we will inquire

to scrap

our attire

so we can lap up 

the atlantics

blue antics

then run against without consent

to franticly devour

chinas looming power

Here together

we shall huff and puff

for we have eaten

more than

enough

so perhaps tomorrow

we can blow over Moscow

and forget the scraps

well ditch

the maps

and leave the earth

because

it isnt worth

As a single bozo

with our

tummies in tow

this humble klutz will spill his guts

I will share with you

the stars 

and

maybe later

we can even eat mars

Author's Note

Leave any ideas if you would like, One of my first poems of this type aand advice would be appreciated :)