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Crumbs in my Cleavage

There are crumbs in my cleavage
cracker flakes in my bra
I don’t mind
I look down, acknowledge them
shrug my shoulders
It is in my capacity to eat crumblessly
and to rid my underthings of existing crumbs
It is not, however, in my nature to bother with such
since my being is a mere collection of assorted crumbs held together
if for no other reason than God has been too lazy
to brush me away
thusfar

Comments

4 responses to “Crumbs in my Cleavage”

  1. mariana Avatar
    mariana

    Great text, excelent ending. I was thinking that the important thing is that you have crumbles cause you dice it, because If you want to get rid of them you could easily do that, unlike me , I always make my partner look bad at fancy dinners, not to mention when there is soop as an entree, I can avoid slurping it.

  2. Uncle Tree Avatar
    Uncle Tree

    I have extra crackers
    and super glue, too.
    Break the bread now.

    If God is lazy, then I believe
    we are mirroring Him perfectly.

    Blessed be your crumby existence, M’Lady!

  3. jessiecarty Avatar
    jessiecarty

    uncle tree’s comment just cracked me up 🙂

    i just love this. i love how you can take these tiny moments and expound on them!

  4. Patrice Avatar
    Patrice

    As one who loves crackers and toast (in bed – or any time), and puts Italian bread crumbs upon my salads, AND who is blessed/cursed with ample cleavage, I can so relate.

    If we are what we eat, no wonder life is crummy (or crumby, or crumbly).

    (And what do you mean you can eat crumblessly? !! Show me…))

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