Breakfast with Omar Khayyam
A decaf cup
and with it will appear
a toasted bagel with a schmeer
together now at Starbucks served—who knew!
Empty thy plate, now crammed with scrambled eggs
and home fries floating in the eggy dregs
the breakfast special hath an expiry of 10
a joy!—’til lunch time prices come again.
Come, read thy Times without a morning froth
at news you think is flagrantly contrived
confront not angrily this journalistic broth
before some joe thy spirits have revived.
Some to the manager with wroth descend
when the tab arrives with a wrongful sum
“just pay the check,” I’m always quick to say
nor heed the desire to do something dumb.
The Hungry Patron eats, and having ate
though stuffed; feels neither happy nor placid
unable to cancel a single bite
or tune down the sting of stomach acid.
More verse from by writer at wallstreetpoet.com