Pizza Party

Everyone Keeps Eating Pizzas

In a the corner of a plaza exists a store known only to those who ignore self-worth,

Where the lights occasionally go out and the floors are shimmered with fattened grease.

Sprinkled with manufactured cheese, a pasty red sauce, slathered onto a frozen dough, accompanied by a flattened coke

All done by the hands of thin clear gloves, continuing on to the next hundred and third order

How have we gone from a home cooked meal to a cheap deal on what will make us as round as the pizza itself?

Dabbling at me is a rattling athlete, yelling at me because one side is missing his damn onions

Over and over again I slice one side, and slice the other side of the same stupid pie with a different topping each time

We have lost sight of reality, beyond the point of rationality, when it has become insufferable to put up with it anymore

Please pizza god, don’t let us fall into temptation of going once again on a Friday night, at 8 o’ clock on the dot to order a stuff crust, easy on the sauce, well done with a hint of sadness sprinkled on it

Why do you not runaway when the thick smell of grease hits you in the face?

How are you not sickened from eating such trash, are you asking to become fat?

Blindly walk into the store with the black covered walls, the red hut up top, to repeat to me what you ordered less than a week ago

This has become pathetic