A poem from my early days as a depressed mule. Or donkey. Whatever.

Ode to a chicken patty sandwich

Oh, chicken patty sandwich,
I long for your sweet presence.
You are the wondrous light
in my dreary, studious existence.
I merely plod along concrete trails,
while you waltz upon opalescent flatware.

UPDATES (courtesy of Fulsome, since this post is apparently a dumping ground):
1. I need this (until they change the name).
2. Teh needs things.
3. You really can't try tro associate with well-rounded nerds if you don't read Dinosaur Comics.

At 3/09/2006 4:25 PM,  teh l4m3 said...

Chicken patties do not waltz. This is not apposite to reality. I give this an F! Do you hear me??? F!!!!

P.S. thnx for the shout-out.

 

At 3/10/2006 3:44 AM,  Anonymous said...

You even graded this teh? He got an incomplete in poetry like a year ago.

 

At 3/12/2006 2:13 PM,  teh l4m3 said...

Okay guys, enough, you obviously need to bring back the sparklies and teh un1c0rn.

 

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