Wow, tedious. I cannot cut a perfect circle with scissors to save my life. This is yet another poem that includes information about food I hate. I actually have TWO poems about how much I hate eggs. I'm a woman of intense opinions- at least about food.
Taste Aversions
I was hungry.
I didn’t want a burrito.
I hate burritos.
you see, in the fifth grade, I went to the new girls’ house for dinner. Her name was Megan [redacted]. Her mother made burritos. It was the first time I ever ate one. Mrs. Kunkle [redacted] undercooked the meat and I got food poisoning and was sick for three days. Now I can't eat Mexican food. It makes me ill. I found out in Introduction to Psychology that this is called taste aversion. At least it has a name.
Anyway, I hate burritos.
I didn’t buy a burrito.
I bought those little mini-doughnuts
and a pack of Marlboros
because I collect the miles.
For 25,000 miles you can get a regulation size pool table.
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