Surreal Hors D'oeuvres (poem)

More about Surreal Hors D'oeuvres (poem)

As I sit here sipping a martini
And eating this cocktail weenie,
I hear you loudly observe,
"You've stolen my last hors d'oeuvre!"

I'm embarrassed by your fit of pique,
And like you, the martini is weak,
Still, I went ahead and drank it.
(But I’d hoped for pigs in a blanket.)

(It is immaterial whether you find this funny because *I* think I'm hilarious, lol.)