A poem called "Priorities," by Jules Langbein

I got no cash and I got no ride,
I lost my Secret Ultra so
I smell like low tide.

But all that junk, it just
doesn't come near.
To the fact that I just pulled
A Frito Lay out my ear.

Frito Lay, my little Frito Lay,
have you been there all my life?
Or did you just get there today?

Are you why I'm deaf?
Have you messed with my brain?
Are you why I always pee a little
when it's about to rain?

I admit I was surprised
when for the thousandth time
I put my finger in my head
to give my cochlea a shine

and instead of acrid nothingness
what'd I find on my huge nail?
a little newborn midget Frito
trembling like a fat man's scale.

Frito Lay, my little Frito Lay,
Where's your tiny gun, cabron,
we're going Carlito's way,

gonna rob all the banks--
you man the wheel.
Now I've got a buddy (thanks!)
to help me cheat and steal.

PEACE OUT, WORLD,
I'm not alone any more
When you got an ear like me
we don't need your stinky stores!

We don't need your judgment!
We don't need your sluts!
We're CHAMPIONS! Whoo hoo!
What's this? A Cheeto in my butt?