At last! My benevolent dreamland has leapt
into full view.
I draw closer, as though seized by
its flashing signs and illustrious residents.
As I gaze in awestruck splendor,
I take in the luxurious reds,
balmy blues, seductive greens,
majestic purples, and vibrant yellows
that surround my glazed cresent moons.
All of them seem to call my name,
trying to stand out more so
than their oppresive brethren.
How is one to choose!?
I love them all for their beauty,
originality, perception, opinions,
and above all, delicious tangibility.
Sweet and smooth or
dark and robust?
Gregarious and memorable
or subtle and tantalizing?
As I consider these petitions,
I suddenly realize that I'm blocking
the cart in front of me.
For I am once again in
the canned soup aisle.
rating: 7
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