Maybe Australia

Complimentary bagel
Compliments of whom, exactly?
The maid?
The shuttle driver?
The front desk clerk?
Something tells me
You didn’t come from The Chef

You are utterly plain
Seedless
Onionless
Tasteless
Heartless

You are squeamishly soft
And spineless
Your crust makes a plasticy
Squeak
Against my teeth

You are a soul crusher
A crusher of souls
How must it feel to crush a man’s soul
so early in the morning?

They call you Continental
But what continent on Earth
Would claim you?






About The Author

andy

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Author’s web sitehttp://poemsaboutonionbagels.com

25

06 2009

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