Sonnet VIII

The State came knocking, pounding on the door,
And when they busted through found quite a mess:
A dozen bagels strewn across the floor,
In varied, lurid stages of undress.

But far worse was an onion sliced in two,
With what they deemed was no remorse at all;
Its skin was slathered with a cream cheese glue,
That kept each half stuck to the kitchen wall.

The agents clenched their fists and cried Why, Lord?
Their souls were shattered, battered with self doubt;
One tried to hang himself with toaster cord,
Until the wiser, other belted out:

Without us there could never justice be —
These bagels need protective custody!






About The Author

andy

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Author’s web sitehttp://poemsaboutonionbagels.com

22

07 2009

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  1. jcstertz #
    1

    I did not see this episode of CSI
    Had I
    I surely would have cried
    Not in the mayhem and violence of it all
    but for the wasted potential
    and the imminent hunger I now experience
    the sad howling of my belly
    as I send down more black coffee and
    smoke another cigarette
    The lack of foresight
    an onion bagel to purchase
    too late
    the regret



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