An ode to potato chips
Should not be written on an empty stomach
But my muse is too powerful, calling me
I eat you I can’t believe my luck.
3 millennia of human progress
People dying for science and shit
Culminating into me at 1pm
Snorting red lays, it’s lit.
The figure of your crispy holiness
Can send lovers into ecstasy
The day I single handedly finished Uncle Chips
Was the day I learnt about intimacy
O lord of us mortals tell me
What did you think before inventing green lays
I will probably die with high cholesterol
But it will be an honour, I says.
No explanatory epilogue today, I am tired.
I don’t even like potato chips that much, puffcorn is so much better, why did I write this?
Good night and hopefully a non exhausting day tomorrow folks.
That Desperate Friend 