a poem by Trevor Allan McLeod, Canada

The hamburger's only a craving I had
to money I spent on flavour they add.
A bun 'top a pickle and a taste of dill,
then napkins and a tray with receipt to thrill.
From service through a window with a light grey-blue
to seating at a table meant for four will do.
A vision of a burger being chomped in air
is just another feeling that your gut won't share.

Top Viewed Not Categorized Poems & Top Viewed Poems

Other poems from Trevor Allan McLeod, Canada

If you like this poem, post a message below to the poet!


Viewed 660 times

VoicesNet Likes