Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer
Pinterest button
Comments Inbox

 
About This Poem

Pretzels

substance of snacks, salty cookies
if you can steam pretzels the way 
you play volley ball, mine Fraulein 
I'll eat them down to my fingertips.

Fine with flavors that  match 
the Olympics world wide
a beggars communion the need
for a snack

when I was a kid I ate them at the 
movies with a Coke for the middle 
class. Poor guys love the pretzels
maybe a streetwalker or bum.

substance for the workers yet no
luxurious pretzels under the colony
of Gods Eden no fallen pretzels
only hot and salty down to the nubs

Julie Heckman

Please Login to post a comment



A comment has not been posted for this poem. Be the first to comment.