Ode to a lunch
Slowly pulled from the frigged shelf,
I turn you over in my hands.
So cold is your box as I read,
trying to make sense of your destiny.
Do I peel away the plastic wrapped cover,
or do I simply punch a hole.
How long shall I cook you,
The box says two to three minutes.
How vague.
Slices of frozen zucchini,
you have black charred lines.
It makes me think,
think of the machine that makes those marks.
Delicious brown goo,
what shall you be?
Be you fluffy microwaved chew toy brownie,
Or oddly hot pudding?
Oh frozen tray of lunch,
I await your soggy bounty.
One chicken nugget like molten lava,
The next like an iceberg.
Thank you frozen tray of lunch,
you fed me well.
But tomorrow I regret,
I think I am having Ramen.
I turn you over in my hands.
So cold is your box as I read,
trying to make sense of your destiny.
Do I peel away the plastic wrapped cover,
or do I simply punch a hole.
How long shall I cook you,
The box says two to three minutes.
How vague.
Slices of frozen zucchini,
you have black charred lines.
It makes me think,
think of the machine that makes those marks.
Delicious brown goo,
what shall you be?
Be you fluffy microwaved chew toy brownie,
Or oddly hot pudding?
Oh frozen tray of lunch,
I await your soggy bounty.
One chicken nugget like molten lava,
The next like an iceberg.
Thank you frozen tray of lunch,
you fed me well.
But tomorrow I regret,
I think I am having Ramen.