The Way My Mind Works

I wonder if that other fork is lonely?
All the other forks are in couples.

Who knew that forks were so cliquish?

He should find like a spoon, or a spork, or something.
Shock the neighbors.

I wonder if forks chew Trident? Or know they are tridents?
Is there such a brand anymore? I don’t even know.

I wonder if utensils ever feel used? I mean, they are.

I used to love to come up with different ways to place
The utensils around the plates when I was
Supposed to be setting the table properly.
Because I was a kid.
Am a kid.

It’s amazing how careful some parents are with their kids.
Then they hand them forks.
I mean, really.
I’m surprised my brother and I never tried to kill each other with forks.

Or that forks don’t just strike out on their own.
Maybe that one did.

Maybe he’s an introverted fork, like me.
The utensil drawer must be hell, then.
Like being at the mall during the Christmas rush.

Silverware is almost never actually made of silver.
Weird. You wouldn’t say glassware for plastic.
Anywhere isn’t made of any, though, so there’s that.

I wonder if Luke Skywalker’s aunt and uncle
Taught him to eat by saying,
“Luke. Use your fork…”

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

3 thoughts on “The Way My Mind Works”

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