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Arisa Mar 3
Late night Macca-run,
Busted up hand-me-down car
Rattling along the rocky road
With his warm hoodie draped around me
Like a toga with a Supreme sticker.

AC's turned off in traffic
As the night breeze is all we need
To enjoy this comfortable night
In his car, together.

I order a hot chocolate.
He orders a cheeseburger.
And we share the fries,
And I drain his pepsi
Until all there is
Is a pile of melted ice
And the soft pallet of knock-off cola
- in which both of us refuse to drink the leftover contents.

The cup is still warm in my hands,
And the car smells of fried food and cocoa powder.
His eyes are focused on the road,
While mine are focused elsewhere.

He drops me home,
and ditches the trash.
And that was the end of our quiet late-night dinner-date.
Macca's = McDonalds
yosemite Jan 15
one time i tripped like never before
and the jazz in my eyes could light fire
to the old couple’s balding heads next to us
in the mineral wells mcdonald’s

it was a missed opportunity
the tab was amazing
and at my peak, i felt that in each passing second
that great poetry bubbling in me

i didn’t write any, though
so you’ll have to deal with this ****
thanks, j.b.
epitome staph '17 '18
Lorie Laconico Sep 2018
In the lonely existence of my thoughts,
The only thing I hear is the soft, loud murmur of words exchanging,
The crunch of wrappers,
Being thrown,
The creaks of chairs being moved
And fro,
The sound of bag chains, trays chuted and orders done,
The calming sound of laughter being made and given.
In the lonely existence of my thoughts,
I found sereneness.
With a cup of cold coffee,
Water draining
Leaving a circled mark of water on the table
And the light passing,
Gave a sense of serendipity,
With the voice of Adele from the speakers.
In my lonely existence,
The sound of low murmurs gave me assurance.
Of something real and human and true,
Of what it’s like to live and feel,
Of empathy and joy.
And on how my lonely existence can be not so lonely,
Even on a mundane fast food chain
mjad 3d
When you ask to be friends
I try and simply explain
That after tasting Bluefin tuna
How could I settle for a McDonald's fish fillet?
i never posted this
Jeff Gaines Jun 2018
"Hello, and good day; yes I'm ready to order.
I'd like a Big Mac ...
Oh, I want it on a tray
and not in a sack."

"I want a large fry, freshly dropped
with very light salt.
I'll also have a Chocolate Milkshake,
though I'd really prefer a Malt."

"OF COURSE, I want it super-sized,
are you trying to joke?
Waddia mean $8.50?
Well, now I've gone broke!"

He steps from the counter
and goes to sit down.
The food smells great ...
yet still, he frowns.

"I'll need a second job
if I wish to keep eating here.
I can't binge on these gut-bombs
and still have my beer."

"I wonder if there's an employee discount ...
as I've got the lingo down pat:
I have a Filet-O-Fish and a Coke on your order ...
Would you like some fries with that?"

If you don't know Temperal Fugue, go here:

If he hasn't hit your page with a comment ... stand by ... He will.
He isn't only a prolific writer (916 Poems at the time of this writing) ... he is also a prolific reviewer/reader of the poetry found here.

When I first encountered him, he had reviewed one of my works with a poem of his own. I arrogantly passed judgement that it was rude to "dump" your own lyric in a review as though it were a comparison to mine ... I didn't get it ... or him.

Then I began to see him doing this in most ALL his reviews and again, I thought it was pompous and rude ... AGAIN, I didn't get it ... or him.
I also began to laugh at how he always spoke in rhymes. I even had a laugh, while picturing a guy that ONLY spoke in rhymes ... ordering Mickey D's.

THAT was the inspiration for this funny ditty.

Then, as I read yet another of his reviews in rhyme form, I began to realize that's just his was of doing it. Just as David Letterman made "politically Incorrect" humor and sarcasm his own, Temporal Fugue had made rhyming reviews his own. This led me to his page and I was really touched, moved and impressed with his concepts and ideas as well as the way he uses rhyming whimsy just like me.

And NOW I get it.


BUT ...

I STILL couldn't stop picturing him going to McDonald's ...
And so this poem came to life. I hope when he (and you) read this, that he realizes that I did it in respect of him ... TOTAL respect. You have to admit, the idea, and the scene, is kinda funny. Can't you just picture the person behind the counter trying to play off the rhyming customer and act like everything is normal?

We here at HP should have a "Temporal Fugue Day" where we ALL go to McDonald's around the world and order in RHYME!

>>PLEASE<< go here! It is UNDERWAY!:


Good times.


Zack Apr 2018
The following is a rather sleek
Slice of life, reality
A far removed from, masterpiece
Embodiment of last night's epic greed

Two of you are in the crowd
One a bit sensitive to loud sounds
The other, by messy hair, becrowned
Both by fate to a place, now bound

The first is a fine partaker
Life of the party, no doubt
Likely excessive by nature
Natural habitat? A crowd

The second is a binger
Show after show in the dark
No soul anywhere, a ******
Full of critical remarks

But despite the obvious differences
By chance, you two might meet yet
Both looking undeniably a mess
Under the bright golden arches, I bet
Gabe Ouellette Nov 2017
Polished off the last of my ****** ale,
Sitting on the bleachers,
asking for rides when all I can ask for is sleep,
are you dumb, greedy, careless, or just immature?
These thanks took a lot, no sleep for two days,
I awoke a new person, with control, and a new outlook,
how those pigeons in the lot pitter patter around, chased by cars,
they have no struggle but for food,
the way the light hits your eye,
you cant tell if its truly rude,
the sun feeding from the corner,
right past that old man reading,
that silent newspaper listens from the side of my awareness...
Knit Personality Jun 2017
A woman awoke with a bite,
Two punctures that happened at night.
   She works with two Ronalds
   At night at McDonald's,
And flees from the dawn's early light.

Äŧül Apr 2017
And probably I'm the biggest fool ever existed,
As I still hope that she will come back one day.
And she'll announce that it was merely a prank,
As she just wanted to have fun by pranking me.
And she'll expect me to welcome her back here,
As old times she will expect me to still love her.

Maybe she rightly considers me an emotional fool,
For all of her experiments, I serve as the ideal tool.
Maybe I should just let her memories vanish now,
For my own happiness, all her memories I'll mow.
Maybe all my family tell me the right thing after all,
For she is indeed a common, desperate Indian girl.

She is the personification of a great wanna-be girl,
'Cause she had lost her way at an age so youthful.
She will bank on prior experience from childhood,
'Cause she has low emotional intelligence quotient.
She bereaved such a pure lover for some ego issues,
'Cause she was a demo of how good/bad a girl can be.

P.S.: Hope that she'll get complimentary coke/burger!
My HP Poem #1471
©Atul Kaushal
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