"panera" poems
She said she couldn't describe how she felt.
Maybe it was like having stomachaches in the Panera bathroom
or ******** about the erred logistics in the directions
or the echo of my *** on the toilet bowl.
It was probably more like asking a friend to explain the meaning of the phrase "social constructs."
It was more like that.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Pomegranate frozen yogurt
and a metal chair
outside alderwood mall
alone
wonderful combination-
in midsummer,
not in mid-autumn
But-
watching frozen people walk by
to smooth jazz
(coming from one of these stores-
Godiva? Panera bread?)
under cold blue skies
frozen sunlight
and the memory
of their own breath's fleeing warmth-
is relaxing
©Brandon Webb
2012
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
Guida & Me drove up to the ***** D
In my whip there was co-pilot Bryx and Captain Sleezy E
We rolled up to my yerp bro Brad D's
Next were greeted by Dino whos drinking a 40
Labatt Blue bonging and ponging like were competing for beer drinking glory
Then its onto asweome fries, saganaki, and telling funny stories
That night was crazy and a definite blast
Woke up the next day to see Dino's Dad's spot and gasp!
Walk into the kitchen to see Grandma Rontondo cooking homemade marinara
Smelling fresher than the lobby inside of a Panera
Next it's downstaris to the "Thunderdome," mindblow is all I can tell ya!
The food was amazing with Uncle D on the grill
Sammy the Bull said "Plastic Cups!" so that was the deal
Party was wild, popping bottles in other words unreal
Zoo was great, conductor swag was for real
Tigers beat the Twins, and that night it was freestyling, speeches, and Labatts on chill
Like the words of Willie Nelson the ***** D stays on my mind
I'll never forget that trip like my brain is a VCR and has the element of rewind!
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 7:00 PM UTC
You said we were tag team *******
But you meant it as a compliment
And you pulled out your wallet the second I was hungry
We spent almost 9 hours in a Panera
But a movie would have been "too awkward"
I gave you gum and you said you loved me
But I made a joke and you said you hate me
And I can never tell which is more sarcastic
Pretending to date you was the best lunch of my life
But you laughed because it could never happen
And all our friends want to set us up
Even the ones who don't know how I feel
The ones who don't know I love you
Even if you don't love me
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Last night I ate broccoli and cheddar soup
from Panera
--in a breadbowl
which I gave to my mouse, Chai;
now I am at the typewriter,
we are listening to Ziggy.
And with Chai sitting inside of it
the breadbowl looks like
a little mud hut in Mali
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
Sulking blocks of concrete boxes
miles of live wire, chrome cheeks, cityscape
glass, promotions, ticker tape,
canal rides, McRibs, sour cabs
human losses.
Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 3:19 AM UTC
No one gets it.
Why do you act different in school and outside, a classmate might ask.
He would see me everyday at school then when he talks to me via phone, he doesn't think it's me, except my voice.
At school,
I am cool with my friends,
Respectful to my teachers,
Laugh just as hard as them,
Go out sometimes to Panera or the movies,
With family, however
I do chores,
Mostly playing video games for 5 hours a day with friends.
Cuss so much that I'm glad there's a door
And seem so relaxed that I'm a whole 'nother person.
Some wonder why.
Some never payed attention and will after this poem is published.
Some question how.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
letter one:
blind. that’s what you are. you’re literally sitting next to me in this car high out of our minds eating Taco Bell. it seems this is the extent of our friendship. the idea that we have to be out of our minds to be friends. I can’t tell you how much I love you. I always told myself that if I found a guy with the same favorite ice cream flavor as me I’d marry them. I can feel your pain as you text her. I could feel your pain as you were crying in panera. you’re so silly. we can’t make homes out of human beings. someone should have already told you that. where are we? not location wise I know we’re in the Taco Bell parking lot, but in our feelings. where are we? when I told you that I went to school that one day looking like I got hit by a truck because I wAs up all night crying. it was because you told me the night before you would never pick me over her. well that one, that one hit me like a bomb.
letter two:
why do I always fall in love with the broken boys? the ones who’s hearts still belong to that girl they dated in high school? still saying “it should have been her”. or the ones who just can’t fall in love at all. who’s minds don’t believe in the concept or who are scared of commitment.
letter three:
I believe that we all are born with a hole inside of us and as we grow we fill it with something. some fill it with religion, some fill it with sports, and some of us make the mistake of filling it with another person. me? I’ve never found anything I’m permanently happy with even though I’m pretty sure the only thing that would come close would be you.
letter four:
I love you, and you love her. it’s like I’m trying to pick up the shattered remains of your heart off of the floor but I just keep getting cut and I’m bleeding everything and it hurts and I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining everything ok. i hate that this is how I feel and you’re just blind to it. you’re just a blind boy who’s still crawling while I’m just starting to run. maybe we’re meant to be together but I’m not going to run any slower just so you can keep up.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
The din resonates
Countless voices frantically
Proclaim facades and personas
Below the cascade
Simplistic souls stand
Wall flowers in waiting
Perhaps a voice will ask
Shall we dance?
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
"Why did
you let that
man cut?"
"Because your
mother is a
good person."
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
Throw away that dastardly pastry,
don’t eat that muffin or scone,
run from that evil bakery,
leave them well enough alone!
Wheat, barley, rye and oats,
these are our greatest enemies,
remove them from our plates,
so they no longer rumble our tummies!
Let's start a blog, issue a protest,
we'll boycott Panera, Wonder Bread,
the Pillsbury Doughboy,
and have Quaker-Oats seeing red!
There’s no stopping us now,
we’ll bring all grain to its knees,
its high time our irritable bowels
do as they please!
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
I wish I had a time machine.
I would go back to our very first dinner date,
that time I took us out for a sushi and you held my hand from across the table;
And I got nervous because no one had ever done that to me before.
I would go back to the night I fell in love with you,
and I would watch myself start to cry because in that moment, I knew that you were the one.
I would go back to the night you asked me to marry you.
When I asked you if you were serious and you had a big, stupid grin on your face when I said yes.
I would go back to our very first fight.
That silly fight of me getting mad at you because we made plans and you had to cancel at the last minute because you had to babysit your brother.
I would take a million canceld plans just to call you mine again.
I would go back to when we got approved for our very first apartment.
We went to Panera bread, and you ordered mac and cheese, and we celebrated the beginning of our life together.
We were only focused on how much we loved each other.
I would go back to Thankgiving last year.
I would watch how happy we were.
I would watch you interact with my family.
I would watch how in love we were.
I would watch my dad tell me that I found a good one, and how I better not **** it up.
I would go back to February 16th, 2017.
I would pick myself up and I would tell myself to get back to work.
I would tell myself that I would lose my home, and I would lose the most important person in my life.
That I was going to lose the only person that I have ever truly loved.
Now I am an empty shell;
And I know I have to find myself.
But how can I find myself when all I see is you?
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
The car beside me is from Quebec
And I hear children whispering in French
I'm accidentally realizing my own existence
Trapped inside this steel contraption
Like if I were to take off my clothes I would simply be naked
Or if I were to cut my hair I would just be carrying around a few less secrets
Who likes shoulder length secrets anyway
So maybe I'll sharpen this car key on the parking lot pavement
And give myself a good old fashioned trim
How is it that all of the songs reeling through my speakers
Call but one thought to mind
A boy in forest green, and then my own reflection
I watch myself float past in a mirror made of river water
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
The joyful Vanilla Latte burnt my tongue at Panera Bread.
Then I slowly sipped sarcastically while my abusive ex-boyfriend Ken Darkheart Jr. was texting these online girls with memes.
I as a liberal made a funny face and went home untouched by his impure memes.
May 28, 2022
May 28, 2022 at 11:07 AM UTC