Posts Tagged ‘america’

And Just Like That, My American Dream Has Been Reduced to a Foreign, Crumb-Filled Nightmare

My bagel payments are too steep,
The onion upkeep’s rough and
I’ll never get a good night’s sleep
‘Til I downsize to an English muffin


10 2009

Sonnet VI

Some chefs have reached a level quite elite,
But I can’t say that I am one of those;
In every dish their skillful talent shows,
While anything I make just tastes like feet.
I tend to burn all sauces, eggs and meat,
(Though chicken comes out pinker than a rose);
My soup and sandwich sucks, my salad blows,
Desserts look like I scraped them off the street.

But there’s one food I make that’s not a crime,
In fact it’s something many people want;
Word that my toasted rings are so sublime,
Has spread from California to Vermont;
Come taste them and you’ll too realize that I’m
An onion bagel idiot savant.


07 2009

The Competitor

His belly is unbeatable
His titles, all repeatable
There’s not a bagel in this world
that he would find uneatable

He needs not to bite off the crust
You’ll never see him cough or fuss
He bypasses his teeth
and sends them straight to his esophagus

Dunks each ring in the water
Wins all bouts by a slaughter
And even with his onion breath
he makes out with your daughter

The victor in the square again
The answer to each prayer we send
Our bagel eating champion
makes us proud to be American


07 2009

Haiku #5

a little known fact
all our greatest presidents
ate onion bagels



02 2009

Enlightening the World, One Bite at a Time

This bagel sitting before me,
is better than I’ll ever be;
For I’m a statue, so lazy,
just watching refuse on TV;
Yet it smells sweet and oniony,
and offers up this guarantee:

“Bring to me all your hungry,
your twisted tummies too achy;
I lift my lamp for these to see
a tasty way to set thee free!”

topics: , , ,


01 2009

Praise Song for the Bagel, A Poem for Watching Barack Obama’s Presidential Inauguration on TV

Each morning we go and do our business,
we flush and we jump in the shower
or not, drying and then dressing.

All inside us is hunger. All inside us is
pang and rumble, yearn and ache, we
long for something touching our tongues.

Someone is scrambling an egg, boiling
water for coffee, Popping a Tart,
heating the things that taste better hot.

A woman in a hairnet waits on tables.
A line cook examines the melting butter.
A hostess says Please. Let me seat you now.

Say it plain: that many have slaved over this meal.
Sing the names of those who brought it here,
who plowed the fields, planted the crops,

picked the onions and the wheat, kneaded
batch by batch the glorious dough
they would then roll into perfect little rings.

Praise song for the bakers, praise song for the meal.
Praise song for every boiled little bite,
the chewing-it-up at kitchen tables.

Some live by you are what you eat,
others by an apple a day keeps the doctor away.
But what if the mightiest food is bagels?

Praise song for getting something in our stomachs.


01 2009

concerning a union

this bagel
i know

good bagel
hardworking bagel
little on the onion-y side
but still

a good
stand-up type bagel

just married
this croissant

from france

just hope it’s for love
ya know?

and not
for some stupid
green card

topics: , ,


01 2009