A Toast-Talkers Roast

As he stands before us this evening
cleaning his ear with his pinkie,
wearing an unpressed, purple
pinstriped shirt with a crooked green tie
(planted on his chest like the
State of Florida),

I can't help but wonder
why he doesn't just move there--
to that glorious sunshine state
full of large hungry alligators, and
start a Toast-Talkers Club of his own;

near some alligator-infested swamp
with hungry, olive-eyed alligators
who would love to munch on a
plump gabby man in a pinstriped shirt
(with an aquamarine, Florida-looking tie)
who couldn't talk

his way out
of a brown paper lunch sack.


© Carol Louise Moon