Sonnet No. 2

I hope that this is not a last-minute deal.

I feel that I will be able to accomplish whatever it takes

To not only finish a quick sonnet, but also devour two milkshakes.

I feel like a prisoner eating his final meal,

Not because of how it tastes, but knowing

That cheeseburger and this catsup-drenched onion ring

Are going to be all people remember me for.

Or, will they recollect that time I kicked in the door?

Did I fall in at an angle correct enough

Not falling in or being pushed,

Nor using the childish word squooshed

To land on my rusty lotion-seeking duff?

Let this be a lesson to all.

If you slough off, then surely you shall fall.