#fries
mom, dad, i beseech, mayst i receive,
upon thy stop at the station of gas,
salted mcdonalds,
spi fingers, cen
ral and pa tri
toma sty ro
to flow uge
lemon tangos on the dewdrops of my tongue --
musky gold, the first kiss yet to unfold, without the panic
(where should i put my eyes?tooquicktooslow)
But completely unconditional, umami, unending glow.
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC
If it is the ending
Would you like to go coffee with me
Or
Go to McDonald's and eat fries
If it is the ending
Can we have one last song
Last dance
Last hug
Last kiss
If it is the ending
Would you mind to tell me a joke
And
Laugh with me like we're the last people on earth
If it is the ending
Can you stay with me?
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 2:36 PM UTC
sand sticks onto my legs
as i crawl out of the water.
stench of salt in my hair,
as i walk the shoreline.
french fry in gull's beak,
as i toss my food away.
god i love the beach.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
i thought about cheese fries
and almost broke down
god d*mn it
this is ridiculous
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 5:19 PM UTC
In-N-Out Burger, quarter to 11.
Tonight I dressed up, hoping I’m at least a 7.
My friend pulls Bea and me aside,
Smiling cheeks, glinting eyes.
A conversation behind her had occurred:
“That girl is really cute, should I tell her?”
She subtly turned around to see
That two boys were looking towards Bea and me.
As she told her story, I bit my tongue.
I let myself think “finally, someone
Who thinks that I’m pretty, and deserves a chance.
I seem to be dodging any flirting glance.”
You’re lovely, my friends tell me (I hope that it’s true).
But I crave to hear it from someone new.
Someone who could possible grow
To love me and cherish me. I don’t say that, though.
I turn to Bea, and give her a smile
She’s in a red dress, prettiest for a mile.
My friends are all 10s, that I can see,
And I know that comment was for her, not me.
So here I am at In-N-Out eating fries
Pretending not to worry about numbers and guys.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 3:25 PM UTC
They did yet not know,
The coincidental details
Of each other’s loathings,
Or even begin
To chart
The eclipses of their early aspirations,
Although instantly,
And within seconds of hearing each other’s voice,
They suspected they’d soon share
The gasps and pleadings of the great grand hope.
Their introduction was online of course,
Their first physical meet,
A small wine bar on the south side,
Where they were served complimentary
Blue cheese, on
Crisp crackers, handmade,
Each bite a delight and a nod and a welcome treat.
A sign of so many yummy things to come.
Lisa, her full name was Lisa Lilac,
Explained, with a bit of crumb on her lower lip,
That her bedroom was the only place to have
A serious conversation.
Nothing else will matter if we don’t **** well,
Or at the very least if we don’t **** with potential, she said,
Can anything overcome the cardinal disappointment,
Of shite-shat ***
How is intimacy even possible she asked
If the ordeal is bitter or banal.
His name was Keegan
And he took her hand for a moment,
And examined the backs of her knuckles with
A kind man’s massage of her fingers.
Her hands were small beautiful appointments,
Soft,
And he knew her touch was opiate
And capable of breaking him apart.
Let me see if I can read your desires, Keegan said
And he turned her hand over and examined her palm.
Our first kiss must be a valuable possession, he said,
A vivid memory, ****** and intentional,
From this first brush, in this famished embrace
You will find in my pursuit all of your hunger,
I will draw your lower lip out with a lover’s bite,
My tongue will pirate your beautiful mouth,
And like a jewel thief in a plush apartment,
It will search urgently and everywhere for a precious reaction.
A French Kiss, is that not the most perfectly named thing,
Our entanglement will tender to curiosity,
This very first kiss will be ours,
Our only signature of things to come.
Lisa said she wanted him to kiss her right now,
In the company of strangers and hired help, Keegan asked.
Of course, I sometimes like an audience, she said,
And I always fall for a man,
Who can perform under pressure.
In that case you must make a promise, Keegan requested.
I’m listening, she replied.
You must promise after
The first time we make love,
To let me read to you out loud,
No matter time of day,
Will there be a first time,
She asked in blush of fashion and feminine coy,
Without any doubt he replied
And consummated her with his dusk- dawn smile.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 8:44 AM UTC
She chose
pizza over salad,
fries over boys,
books over looks,
actions over promises,
mountains over money,
oceans over tears.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 11:25 AM UTC
Guys are like fries,
You know they ain't healthy
But you just can't get enough!
~ K.B.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
A man and wife go to lunch.
Premium burgers, shakes and fries.
It's cheap and he can wear his sweatpants.
For every one couple,
there's twenty single fathers
with his children.
(a depressing ratio)
It must be custody weekend.
At the Heartbreak Hotel
tables for two occupy singles.
The men picked out their best shirts
and the women painted their lips.
Looking only for a conversation,
they leave with a bill
priced with another Sunday
of shattered hope.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Me and fries are like stars in night skies. We belong together.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
yes, i need fries
and a guy
but mostly fries
like i need my child to not have hazel eyes
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:41 PM UTC
When I’m sad I crave french fries
They taste like happiness is supposed to feel
like grease dripping from your lips as you sit back and enjoy yourself
like indulging a craving that everyone says will only make you fat and unattractive
and this
feels like a goodbye
French fries don’t ask you to talk about your feelings and
French fries don’t tell you ‘no’ when you reach for them
French fries only comfort and tell you that it’ll all be okay
because spending a few bucks on McDonalds is always better than taking a razor to your skin
the threat of gaining a few extra pounds is nothing when you think that I could be running toward a precipice with no hope of stopping
No desire to pause in my motion until I am airbourne
because Moriarty said that falling is just like flying
until you stop
French fries are always warm
They cool over time but by then they are making their way through a system made only to squeeze what nutrition can be found there
They don’t keep me up at night with cravings for more
because when I eat French Fries I’m only trying to sit here and live in this moment
because French Fries don’t tell me what I don’t want to hear and
French Fries don’t pull things like me like a string around a loose tooth and
French fries don’t slam the door
When I’m angry they taste like tears
I haven’t cried more than two tears since the day my heart up and left me
I’ve tried to tell everyone that being unable to cry doesn’t mean I can’t feel anything
except when it does
and maybe that just means that I am hollow and dry on the inside as well, maybe it means the soul I thought was old as my great grandmother’s is simply an empty space
But I don’t want to believe my being is half of something else
to be filled by someone who can leave any other day
I don’t want
to be desperate
but the grit of salt on my fingers feels a lot like missing you
so I lick it off
because they say that salt purifies and I haven’t felt clean since this time last year when you
got drunk and told me that you loved me
So I’m sorry if I can’t get to you through all the french fries
I’m sorry that I can’t reach far enough to grasp at straws and I’m
sorry that eating fast food is the only way I can find release and
I’m sorry that sometimes I think that maybe it’s for the better, you know?
because all this is just ridiculous and
we were supposed to get married and
I knew it was stupid to think so at the time because everyone says that high school can’t last forever and I’m
a senior
I’m sorry that I made you happy
because happiness is the only thing more devious than the male mind and
I told you that I would gladly let you move in if your parents disowned you and
I told you that I was thinking about you through spoken word poems I never got around to writing and
I told you to bring a blanket to that roof you watch the stars on to get away from your demons and
I told you that it didn’t matter to me if you relapsed
and
still you act like I’ve never said a word
but French Fries fill me from toe to crown and I
know now
that the taste of them fills me better than bitterness ever had and
that finding release in fattening strips of potato is better than
wishing I was dead every moment and
I’m sorry that I can’t do this anymore
So everytime I go to McDonalds and order one, two, three orders of large fries
know I always order one for Chelsea,
but I eat the other two for you
because to me they taste like Burger King
and an order of French Fries
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC