Chilli (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t make it hot enough to please him

He scarfs down whole scotch bonnets for breakfast

I even saw him puree ghost peppers and drink it as a smoothie

Last Superbowl was the topper.  The con carne concoction he brought was pure chemical warfare

Leaving us all to stare in awe and fear as he ate the whole thing without a single sniffle

It did come to no surprise that his intestines eventually got their revenge for his war crimes.

Muscles (an acrostic poem)

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Motivated to keep on moving

Until I can’t move anymore

Seems like a recipe for fitness

Could be, but that would mean the day after

Letting my body get its revenge

Every fiber letting me know what I did

So I sit here. sedentary, in a negotiated peace.