Archive for October, 2009

the band

this unbroken ring shows all
that our union shall not fall,
endless in its circled line,
our two separate lives combine
onion taste we both adore,
mark our love forevermore

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10 2009

Plus they’ll probably smell like onion

City apartments cost so much dough
And yet their prices continue to grow
Just when you think bagels can be scored
Dark crusty holes are all you can afford

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10 2009

Past Mistakes –or– Breakfast Is On Me, Beyoncé

You told me if I like it then
I shoulda put a ring on it
(Which I never did for you)

But I like this onion bagel
Way too much to ever lose it
(So I put it in a stack of two)


10 2009

No Poem Today

No poem today, I’m not in the mood
Not thinking ’bout writing, rhyming or food
No witty remarks about onions or grain
No crust-laden metaphors crossing my brain
I’d rather just sit here in silence and sorrow
So no poem today, please check back tomorrow

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10 2009

poor form –or– the embarrassed eater

to spread
schmear on
my onion bagel,
__i inadvertently
_ _ _and tragically
__went right over
the hole again.
if that glop
drips into
my palm,
i may


10 2009


Chin to chest hair
Stretched nape of neck
Taut like bagel skin
(and shiny, you suppose)
Onion pieces protrude
From fast filling temples

You boil


10 2009

Bee for Bagel

O, fragrant and flowery bread bouquet
For you my loins tremble,
Aflutter, abuzz
I’d circle your circles all night and all day
Then cover my legs with your crumbs,
Just because


10 2009

the day the vampires finally got me

couldn’t find my silver necklace
(the one with garlic bagels on it)

so i wore the gold one
with onion bagels instead

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10 2009

For Virgil (or Michael Bay)

I only wrote about impressive things
Like gods and wars and nations’ prideful roots
Heroic tales to tickle queens and kings
Recited o’er the lilt of lyres and lutes
And thusly Fame and Fortune knew me well
For plebes rejoiced with every song I’d quill
They’d buy most any word I’d care to sell
Til coffers, and my ego, got their fill
But grandeur can accurse one to dementia
Convincing him to think his waste not foul
With formulaic plotlines in absentia
I now write only of my stomach’s growl;
Though my career is at an all-time low, it
Feels good to be an onion bagel poet


10 2009

A Gross Generalization

Don’t order “onion bagel” in a French brasserie
Turns out they prefer petit pain
And speaking of pain, how come they don’t care
that their snootiness
really hurts my feelings?

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10 2009