The Weighing Scale is a Great Pretender and I Will Never Depend on it Again

BL
The weighing scale is a great pretender and I will never depend on it again.

When Big Mac, Fries and Iced Tea were sloppily ingested
through my mouth, into my esophagus, down to the stomach,
I couldn't think about anything but
to seek an appointment with that pad you put your feet on.

The numbers were racing fast:
64, 81, 100, 144--flat
Did it start on zero?
So my feet were lifted and
They stepped on the ground.
Then noise approaching silence.
Ckshckshckshcskshk, like a basketball
Slowly rimming in and out of the ring.
In? Out? In? Out? And click.

Published by BL

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