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Mitch Prax Mar 19
Kisses for you
for lunch and
for dinner-
for now
'til eternity.
Mrs Timetable Jan 28
I propose we call Tuesday
What it really is
Being only two days in
It only exists for tacos
Very little humor
I now pronounce you
Monday Jr.
Cheesy Lunch thoughts.
Mrs Timetable Jan 14
A roach came to work with me
in my shoe.

It's a true story.

I shook him out of my laces

And he joined in with a new group
of bugs on the ground.

He can get renter's insurance for
$10 a month.

I'm back, eating lunch in the car
by the path.

And cake.

That's a start.
FloydBrandon Dec 2019
Stink, stank, stunk,
Where'd you get that gunk?
In a garbage pile stickin to a little funk,
Stuck inside a rabbits foot
must be gooder luck,
No one ever looks in the dead stuff.

Think, thank, thunk,
Where'd you find that junk?
Deep inside the valleys of the ******* of a skunk,
Hot enough for dinner
if you hit it after lunch,
No one ever loots through the dead stuff.
a feisty
upstart made
midday there
only would
staff his
well being
and hit
allure in
me and
tally no
longer retribution
of Planet
George to
capture the
moment by
Nunes again
this year
scapegoat
Faith Oct 2019
I fell in love with you
From across the table
ollie Aug 2019
i eat the same chips for lunch every day
sitting at the same table
with the same foreign people
when they ask who i’m looking for
i’ve resigned to just change the subject
the last time, i just stopped looking.
it wasn’t worth the pain in my neck
looking for someone who didn’t want to be found
obviously i feel the exact same way you do but i kinda never want to talk about my problems if that’s valid **** since they’re bothering you?
Debra Speed Aug 2019
' I found my first grey ***** hair " my husband said today
His voice was soft and full of dread - I had to look away.
We sat in silence very still - you could have heard a penny
I didn't know quite what to say so said " I don't have any "
" Today at noon I went for lunch " he quietly replied
" The hair was in my bagel "
I laughed until I cried.
I thought I would write a small amusing poem, not the angst filled ones I usually do.
Terry Collett Jul 2019
Yiska said
she'd take me home
with her lunchtime.

Her mother had said
it was all right
as she would be there.

I couldn't wait
for the boring lessons
that morning in school
to end.

I won't be able
to take you to my room,
though,
she said,
despondently.

I had met her old lady
a month or so before;
she suffered
from depression,
so Yiska said.

I doubted she'd get
to show me
her room again.

She did once,
but then her mother
came back
from shopping early,
and we went downstairs
just as her old lady
entered the kitchen.

When the last lesson
of maths ended,
I made my way
to the gate
and waited for her.

I wondered what sort
of sandwiches her old lady
had prepared for lunch.

Last time
it was crab paste
with lettuce.

She'd cut them up
in small neat triangles.

I hoped it wasn't
crab paste again.

As Yiska came
towards me,
it began to rain.
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