French Fries

My eyes see French-fries off a yonder

My nose found out from my eyes that

My feet are heading toward those fries

My ears hear my feet moving and ask my mouth

To ask my eyes where are we going?

My eyes see the fries and

My nose knows the aroma

My mouth don't know where we go yet

My fingers can just about feel the salt and potatoes

My French fries and I, we finally meet

My feet are stopped

My eyes hear

My nose sniffs

And finally my mouth eats

French-fries

(only my brain (a small part) would thing of a poem about French fries)

David T Gross #008 1997