Wheat Do You Want From Me?

Through all portals of the internet, I am being stalked by a Spanish-speaking piece of frosted wheat. He enjoys doing a balancing act with a pencil and furrowing his brows for emphasis. Not merely a static picture, he moves through his frame, enticing me with his breakfast concept...himself. I close the browser and sneak off to have a banana, which has neither face nor foreign tongue, proposition, or circus act.