Monday, July 31, 2006

Poem Written from the Perspective of the Bag Boy Who Had to Clean Up a Bunch of Stepped-On Pretzels

Whoever
in the fuck
smashed all
these goddamn
pretzels all over the floor
will pay for this!

I've got to clean up
fucking messes all the
goddamn time, and I'm sick of it.

A smashed jar of pickles,
a carton of eggs,
a fucking box of frozen hamburgers that someone
left in the chip aisle,
and then these fucking pretzels.

And they kicked a bunch under the frozen
food section.

They will pay if I ever find out who did it.

I suspect it was that goddamn
Ronald Polar!

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