my burger king toy

was a tall man with a buttery nose
& sea horse eyes. 
didn't fit inside the reccomended plastic.
told him to lay down in the back seat
& cover his ears while i chew.
i try to avoid processed boys
but sometimes it's inevitable.
in dusk i always float like a pickle. 
blimping & goose flesh. nothing much to see.
it's better not to resist this kind of coupling.
on the way home, i got him a fine china plate 
he can carry around to feel important.
really, i wanted the wooden top.
wooden toys make me believe
we were once cut from trees or at least
that we were once more organic. 
trees faint when you tell them
just how much waste is happening 
right now. the consumer is always
thinking he-she knows what he-she wants.
when i am in a consuming mood
i watch youtube until the videos
mash together & no longer make any sense.
plastic is basically organic though
like tomatos or beets. used to be
dinosaur brains & now is smooth 
& blue. science is sometimes
nothing more than instructions 
for how to make the best soda lid.
my toy asks for chipped ice
but i only have cubes. he doens't appreciate
how many stop lights i had to endure
to meet him. the fries 
are cold as tombstone letters.
when we go to sleep i'll tie a balloon
to his wrist & tell him "get lost."
not like in a rude way but more like
a "not all who wander are lost" bumper sticker.
really, my preference is for 
men the size of pockets. i pat his head.
i fold the hashbrown in half 
like a bible to take a bite. 
tell him he tried his best.
nothing free is neccesary. well,
except maybe air. but even that 
might be up for debate. i once
held my breath for twenty-one years 
& nothing that bad happened to me. 

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