Stop and Taste the Guacamole

You called me this morning
(I’d been up since five)
To invite me to dinner
To talk ’bout our lives.

You said “How are you?”
I said “Get to the point.”
“Would you like to have dinner
At that new Spanish joint?”

“That new restaurant?
That requires a waiter
And I don’t have the bravas
To wait for potaters.”

“Ok, then at my house
Does that work for you?”
I sighed, “I suppose,
But I’ve so much to do.”

“I’ll make us fajitas
That ought to be quick.”
I wrote in my calendar
Dinner at SIX.

“I’ll make guacamole.”
But crap!  I need limes.
Through the phone you keep talking
And wasting my time.

I’ve got so many things
On this week’s agenda
I’ve no time to hear
About dear cousin Brenda.

We get off the phone
And I look at my list
“I should have said no.”
As I pound my fist.

I’m racing the clock.
I’m fast but he’s faster.
It’s almost five-thirty?
Oh, what a disaster.

The base of my guac
Is a hard avocado
I put the “desperate”
In the word desperado.

I grind it all up
It’s not what I want though
I forgot to add salt
Y me falta cilantro.

Where does the time go
For the people who waste it?
Now I have to leave
And don’t have time time taste it.

I jump in the car
And press hard on the gas
How is modern convenience
Such a pain in the ass?

That red light turned green
Didn’t you see it?
HONK! “You’re a moron!”
Yeah, that must be it!

I drive past your driveway
Reverse, then I’m in it.
I knock on the door
Till you say “Just a minute!”

You whisk me indoors
And sit me at the table
You wag your finger at me
“Let me tell you a fable.

“There once was a girl
Who thought she had to hurry
She ran here and there
Her whole life, it was blurry.

“When she tried to look back
Well, the speed made her nauseous
I wish someone warned me
To be much more cautious.

“Don’t hurry too much,
Though you’re still in your prime
But life is too short
To care about time.”


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