National Red Mitten Day

Why now, of all times, can I not use my thumbs?

I obliterated that plate, all the way down to the crumbs.

The cocoa’s touched stomach acid, and now I can’t feel my zipper.

With no opposable thumbs, I may as well have a flipper.

Regaining my grip, I’ve cleared only one of my hurdles.

For I’ve yet three layers to remove while my intestines lie curdled.

And if through all of my effort, my quest concludes without success.

I’ll burn those excrement-laced clothes just as soon as I’m undressed.