Two salt crystals make your eyes
They peer across imaginary grassland skies
Your body tapers off at the end
Do you know you’re just a pretzel stick, my friend?
The other end of the pretzel is bulbous — that’s your head
Hyenas ate your family, then fled
At least that’s what I think, I wasn’t there
Don’t worry though, they’re gone and I’m not going anywhere
You do not belong in a museum or a zoo
Confined with cages and tags
Only one pretzel as notable as you
In every 10,000 jumbo bags
But despite distinguishing features, all objects are created equal
So I think I’m going to eat you anyway
If that’s okay