Counting Green Fruit Loops

A crazy love poem.

Counting Green Fruit Loops

Wearing his spandex boxer shorts outside in the snow

To get the paper, dancing to Dire Straits with my IPOD

And my sports bra on.  I notice the vacuum salesmen

in the shop below our apartment, pointing and laughing

 at me!  Yet this brings me no pain really, they just like

the curves they see.

 

They know I’m his Tid-Bits, that we wine and dine together often.

But I’m in love; my head is full of wormholes when I’m around him.

I don’t see this love convention drifting away or turning into a

Nuclear waste site any time soon.

 

I just know this gig is going to last because we’re friends too.

We both believe that this UFO obsessed world is full of pain

And to keep from going insane, you need to count more then

Sheep when you have a bad case of insomnia.

 

It’s better to go to the Hammond Kitchen on the corner, the one that

Rosie owns, where they have a cereal bar. Go there and count

How many green fruit loops you see, or buy a telescope and start

Counting how many lunar craters you see on the moon.

 

Count until you fall asleep standing on your feet or fall

Face first into the Listerine soaked tissue that’s piled

Up in the waste basket by the window, underneath

The medicine cabinet. 

 

If we can conquer our insomnia together, then we can

Conquer the world of green together.

 

 

Author's Note

I wrote this from a list of words in a word bank poem. It was fun to write. It's a goofy love poem. It was a difficult list of words.