Nacho sauce makes nachos boss.
What do yours wear so they never get lost?

Whatever you cross with your macho bits,
it’s not your loss how your nacho sits.

Take them as creamy, sort them all nice,
cook them up steamy, or even with rice!

Eat them in Italy, or in a hickory,
or in a slippery, flickery wok!

Nachos with salsa are saucy and tossy,
cheesy and gleamy feel flossy and sometimes outright naughty!

Don’t show a care what your nachos must wear,
rated or baited or eat them plain naked!

Cilantro avocado, or ranch El Dorado,
freshly or oily or smeared guacamole!

Olives, onions—red, green, black, or white,
no telling what makes your nacho delight.

Drape them with beans or beef that’s not lean,
jalapenos that scream and then make you dream.

Cheddar or mozz, or Swiss if you’re bold,
Colby or Jack, or both if you’re told.

Microwave’s easy, just turn them each minute,
or bake them ‘til golden in brick ovens molten.  · · · →

I darted down the street, not knowing whether it would find me again.

Everywhere I ran and turned, it chased me, pursued me, exhausted my strength.

Crouching in the corner, it returned.

Wind blew. Debris clanged. A leaf smacked me in the face.

It was here.

Jumping up, I ran away, but it kept pursuit.

Rounding each corner I turned, this monster had a mind of its own.

It could run me over. It could sweep me up. It did neither. It only gave chase.

As I give haste, it overtakes, but never quite reaches me.

When I wait, it closes in, but only enough to make me run again.

I’m not sure what that monstrous mind of this whirling wind wants.

Does it want me? It can have me.

Does it want the streets I flee through? It leaves them unchanged.

The only damage done is to my strength.

What kind of a miraculous, monstrous, mind steers this chasing whirlwind?  · · · →