Beware John Warren!
I smell popcorn
Or is it burnt fries
I see John in the Break Room
Telling Katja lies
I smell popcorn
None for me please
Those charred kernels
Knock me to my knees
Offer me popcorn
And please don’t judge
Don’t be offended
If I’d rather wait for fudge
I smell popcorn
Or a whiff of smoke
Beware of John Warren
He’s a Burning Bloke
So if you want popcorn
Of another tasty snack
Please first put out the fire
In our microwave shack
Posted on March 20, 2016, in Poem and tagged Break Room, burnt, Fire, fries, fudge, John Warren, judging, Katja, kernels, microwave, popcorn, smoke, snack, Time, wrong settings. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Kitt
pueriles 