Is There a God?
I am the pringle,
which I cannot afford
I tasted the pringle,
I savored it’s crunchy texture,
And salty composition
I meditated on the pringle, and on my life in general
Is this all there is to life?
Has anything been gained?
Has anything been restored?
Pringles bake at around 450 F
What does that mean?
Do they feel me,
Cry?
Do they feel me,
Sigh?
Do they feel anything at all?
A can of pringles rolls and falls off the table
The sound frightens you, and you wonder,
Will this madness ever end?
Written By: Kirsten Lachance
Originally Published: September 2015