deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rinse. Spit. Repeat.
It's the Crunch.
the Big Salty Peanut Butter Crunch
that gets stuck in your teeth
and never quite leaves
no matter how many mints hints hits
you drop.
Rinse once.
Spit,
Don't Swallow.
Stuff'll kill ya.
Neighbour's friend dropped dead of the stuff last week
poor thing
She wasn't weak,
just on her last leg
out on a limb,
on a whim
in need of a crutch
Not a Crunch.
But beggars can't be choosers right?
And Boy could she beg.
no matter how many mints hints hits
She Dropped.
the salty stench
Remains
stained
engraved
Grave indeed.
Better try whitener next time
the Big Salty Peanut Butter Crunch
that gets stuck in your teeth
and never quite leaves
no matter how many mints hints hits
you drop.
Rinse once.
Spit,
Don't Swallow.
Stuff'll kill ya.
Neighbour's friend dropped dead of the stuff last week
poor thing
She wasn't weak,
just on her last leg
out on a limb,
on a whim
in need of a crutch
Not a Crunch.
But beggars can't be choosers right?
And Boy could she beg.
no matter how many mints hints hits
She Dropped.
the salty stench
Remains
stained
engraved
Grave indeed.
Better try whitener next time
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 720
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.