SWEET TOOTH

I found your dirty fingerprints

on my box of Junior Mints.

I also found your DNA

on my stolen Milky Way.

You picked out all the green gumdrops.

I’ve already called the cops.

They won’t believe your alibi—

they’ll know you stole my Hostess pie.

They’ll pull your sweet tooth out with pliers.

Your screams will sound like screeching tires.

They’ll lock you up without parole

and feed tuna casserole,

brussel sprouts, and lima beans.

That’s how our justice system weans

sugar junkies off of sweets:

with dental work and healthy treats.

From now on, your life is pain and grief,

you dirty candyholic thief.