Tag Archives: Fast Food

That Wasn’t Chicken…

My eyes were purple lightning

And lips were platinum knives.

My heart beat with a vigor

Like when rappers beat their wives.

I squeezed my hands like oranges

As my skin began to burn

And I knew to that Panda Express

I would not return.

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A: Burger King, Somebody Named Consuéla

I won “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire”

On Venezuelan TV.

Now I’m wondering where to spend it

And who will share the fries with me.

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Finding The Next #1 Pick

I’m a talent scout

For your local Mickey-D’s.

I think you may have talent

For stacking bread and meat and cheese,

So if you fail a few more classes

I hope you’ll call me please.

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Instant food is great

Most bachelors would agree,

But that just seems a little too

American to me.

Now, I get that potatoes

Take a lot of time to cook.

Sometimes home cooked macaroni

Doesn’t have that chemical look.

Maybe you’re to tired

To take a cup of oats

And throw in some sugar and xanthan gum

And whatever else that floats.

So you buy a bag of chemicals

With natural oat flavor

And nuke it for 60 seconds

And for another 60, you savor.

To top it off, this overpriced

Tax on those who cannot cook

Has an old, white guy or store brand

To complete its flashy look.

Thus ends my rant on oatmeal

And the injustice derived therefrom.

Tomorrow, tune in again

For my rant on chewing gum!

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Fine Dining

It’s Fry Day at Sir Spatu-lot,
My city’s favorite dining spot.
You buy your steak by ounce or pound
Or even by the name of the cow.

If you eat ten burgers, you don’t have to pay.
That is just the Spatu-lot way.
If you eat fifty burgers in one sitting
You get to park in the handicapped spot, which is fitting.

It’s been ten years since my last Fry Day.
I was banned for bad behavior, you might say,
For when they asked what I wanted to eat
I asked for a salad without any meat.

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That Wasn’t Chicken

I wanted fried rice
At a very low price
Because I was poor and young.
What other excuse
Would I have for the use
Of a menu from “Meow Tse Tung.”


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Hamburger: Helper

Hamburger, hamburger,
Object of desire.
Cheese, mayo, and pickles
Cooked on electric fire.
Under fluorescent glow
I bite the whole-wheat shell.
My heavy heart grows lighter,
And my pocketbook as well.

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Haiku: Taco Bell

If you’re feeling some
Gastrointestinal pain
It was prob’ly us.

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Intrigue in the Barn

I am a Princess on the run,
But not for parties and frivolous fun.
I fled for my life, ’cause here’s the thing:
I’m the daughter of the Burger King.

I loved my Mom* and trusted Daddy
Until the took my hand-heifer, Patty.
They tied her up and milked her dry,
And then I watched poor Patty die.

Every day my legs grow faster
As I run to greener pasture.
Seeking something to make life full,
Even if that’s all just bull.

*The Dairy Queen, of course.

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A Fast Fast-Food Poem

I asked you once,
I asked you twice,
And now I ask thrice
Do you want frice with that?

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