We are what we eat
So that means in a week
My form will take shape of
A bologna and cheese
My neighbor will turn into
The curry he cooks
Though I can’t quite imagine
Exactly how that looks
My mom would be salad
My dad would be ribs
My little bro would be macaroni
My dog would be IAMS
And Pizza the Hut
Would not seem so unusual
For my teenage buddies
Would all look like his children
It would be quite interesting
To see so many varieties of food
No wonder they call this land
The great melting pot
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem