Mural or Pie?

i gotta box

full

of dead frogs

i found up

by the road

and i’m certain

up to a point;

of which i’m extremely reluctant

to elaborate upon;

that not one

single one

of them

is a toad

i'm either

going to make a mural

or i’m

going to bake a pie

this is just another process

i don't even know why

they don't ribbit

they don't croak

they don't hop

and if dropped

from roughly four feet

they just plop

i'm mildly conflicted

by the way

my imagination

restricts my choices

in this matter

they only move

if i shake them

so i think

i’m gonna bake them

and my next inner turmoil

is purely pastry

short crust, filo or flaky

the filling is easy

frogs and three veg

simmered in a dijon gravy

the pie comes together

pastry du jour:

some tat in a packet from coles

cooked and then cooled

on a window sill

as per a 50's magazine photo

dripping

both nostalgia and pie filling

my newest dilemma then becomes

to eat or preserve

one up mind made later

i go to the tool shed

returning with lacquer

and brush.

slowly i varnish

this cooled box of dead frogs pie

there is no hurry

there is no rush

i cover the pie profusely

the lacquer nearly

three inches thick

poke a coupla little holes in it

with a tiny little stick

if you look at it funny

maybe with a squint

the pie it almost has

an ethereal amber tint

the lacquer dries

and pie

is hung proudly on the wall

to show where the not so dizzy heights of my creativity

hit near the bounds of my seemingly bottomless stupidity

and that yes pure boredom is a drug

my mind wanders

so easily