On Eating Chinese Food.

Why, I have fallen asleep on the dirty couch again,
it sags so far underneath my weight.  No one thought
to tell me where it was going, until it was too late.
What did I think of this, why am I so bland, why does
the cell phone ring only twice in one year?  I guess
my wife thought it was too fear, but I didn't, I banged
into it twice.  My recollection of forces, some things
are done before us, some things are done after us,
and then I sit here and read the paper, the rustle of
paper wakes up my cat.  He sits there, cleaning himself,
grooming himself like a gorilla.  Such a splendid cat!
I bet he could get a job as president, or maybe even I
could, but I wouldn't know.  What things you tell me
these days, o lucid one, who knows me better than
the dandelions growing around my porch in summer,
who speaks to me as Nature would speak to me, and grasps
things better than my human counterparts.  I have a desk
in my office that's littered with piles and piles of words,
and fortunes, I had gone to Kung Fu Wok last week,
and ate all the fortunes after I had eaten my full of egg rolls
and sweet n sour chicken.  What is this life I lead, all day,
every day, until the day I die, I wish for a happy funeral,
I wish my friends would celebrate life instead of death,
I wish for a lot of things.  It is incorporated into my life-
sleep well, my darling, I've had my fill.