Everybody’s pleased with everything today.
There’s nothing we don’t like.
Our mitochondria are gladsome at the way
they’re being fed to feed the spike
of energy our cells can’t get enough of.
Sexually, oh! -- the thrills
we’ve had through summoning the stuff of
what voluptuously spills!
Ice cream’s been a treat. And thinking
hasn’t swamped us.
We think we have death beat. So far ithasn’t whomped us.