The cookie i could have beat? (Revised)
by Morgan Olson
"Are these cookies I have been eating,” I wondered all night?
The texture of crackers that set out for a fortnight.
The funny red glow that spoke with a Russian accent.
"Eat John, not me, comrade" as it rumbled the cracks in my head
So I chose the gray cookie with only a little dread.
It tasted square and round as they moved down my GI tract.
I am sure the worms inside me will not give it back.
With all the effort and dirt ahead
I am sure my emotions are not what make me bloated or covered in red.
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