Famishedisagoodword. Poem by Maxwell Searcy

I ate a chair.

Don’t worry;
It was a figurative chair.

I got so hungry I could eat a horse;
but I wasn’t raised in a barn,
so finding a horse was like looking for a needle in a haystack
and, without any clear indication of where to start looking, I felt lost.

So,
I ate the figurative chair that all of my English teachers like to sit on.
The one upon which they like to sit, though, I saved for later, because

I thought that maybe I might perhaps get a possible hankering for some correct sentence structure later in the future at some point in time, and

I wood defiantly wont an nice peace off proper word choice four desert.

So, last night I started with a figurative chair and ended up in literal a bed with someone that literally isn’t figuratively you

After all, poetic devices are a great appetizer;

but poetic justice is the only entrée I know how to make.