"Choosy mothers choose Jif"
Now that peanut butter is the center of your life
Is there room for anything else?
Is there room for living outside yourself?
And you met another and you left the room retarded
And you explored creative writing by making up alibis
It pulls you through this saccharine routine
It fills your brains and veins with danger
The high cost of moral character
The low reward of moral character
Are exotic permutations to the trapped
Trapped in the supermarket and trapped in the kitchen
Trapped in front of the microwave watching a tray of something turn
Looking at yourself in your entirety
Are you brave enough to make a full assessment?
Are you brave enough to check yourself?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem