Some people spend their lives
Trying hard to do things right,
Making perfectly circular pizzas
And working through the night.
Other people live their lives
By doing what is fun
Though the pizza ends up looking
Like art the family dog has done.
Perfectionists unite, I say
And make the rocket ships
While the do-it-my-way folks
Make new flavors for the chips.
The harmony is perfect
Though perfectionists will glare
Because the have-some-funners
Smile back without a care.
But if the pizza’s spherical
Instead of round and flat
Take a bite: It tastes all right
And you’re the first to make it that!
The Daily Travesty 