Few days back, returned from a marriage
With my katz-en-jam-mer-ed bud, in a typical Himachli carriage
Half the journey, I was accompanied by
After parting ways at station, we bid each other bye

Continuing thereafter, the journey, I went into a slumber dim
Unaware, that the signal went out from my SIM
Someone, looking about 25, sat into my lateral sight
Looking sober, he asked about a familiar site

Involving his step family, he told me his unfair tale
Hearing upon which, I let pity sail
Somethings do happen for worse, told myself
Nothing remains forever, he added words on my shelf


|AB|

I prefer to craft a poem
for no rhyme nor reason
expressing heartfelt pleasure
to our highly refined palate
versus presenting tasty, yummy
and zesty nutritious snacks
exuberant feedback courtesy Tik Tok.

Aside from harkening from Semitic stock
me and the missus
relish those (Katz) gluten free pastries
they give us the oomph to rock
and similar to powder milk biscuits
give us strength to do what needs to be done.

Though no intention to mock
popular Pop-Tarts
(stylized as pop•tarts),
an American brand of toaster pastries
produced and distributed by Kellanova
(formerly Kellogg's) since 1964,
which consist of a sweet filling
sealed inside two layers of thin,
rectangular pastry crust.

In 2006, Mrs Katz decided
to transform the world
of gluten free snacking
for her celiac children.

Eighteen years later,
she retains firm stronghold
courtesy word of mouth watering
salivating (videlicet) Pavlovian
salutary, masterly, hardy,
deliciously crafted wholesome food
clinching dominant market share
analogous to stronghold ala deadbolt lock,
a recipe distributors attempt
to steal by hook or crook,

yet unable to break down fortified doors
after they loudly knock
on one occasion
holding the bakers on their break hostage
pointing culinary harmless
imitation edible Glock,
nevertheless drawing attention
of media camera crews that flock
for breaking shipping news
that harbor standoff

with quasi narco traffickers,
intent to rebrand and sell
Katz TOASTER PASTRIES
as mucked up poor quality dogs treats,
where special op forces
heavily guard the dock
maintaining vigilance around the clock,
to prevent goods held as contrabands
and subject pastry chefs to intense torture
forcing unsung heros

to stay awake 24/7 blindfolded,
so as not to see miscreants,
where ingredients of goodies
sniffed, sifted, and scrutinized
by sophisticated chemical analysis,
and thus I now conclude
contrived fictitious poetic scenario
to share such helpful feedback
in a little ditty composed ad hoc
can boost sales for your company.

by: matthew scott harris

And it's pathetic
And you're incessant

Cleanse the wound but disregard the preference

You're anesthetic
I'm apathetic
Clears the drain, but clogs up the septic

I wish you hadn't done that
(I wish I didn't do it)

There's no place like home