Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Dear Becca I’d love to pull up a chair
But I don’t have a moment to spare
I’m exhausted, just look I’m deadbeat
I wish god gave me ten pairs of feet

I slave for you all night and day
For a miserly five dollars of pay
I serve food just as fast as I can
But you really just don’t give a damn!

I slop down bowls of lupin juice soup
Its consistency looks like blue poop
I deposit bowls with a wry smile
Because I know that it tastes really vile!

The customers, oh they can be SO rude
They say hurry up Frank with our food
They’ll order plates of pink slimy frogs
(I have to prise frogs off blue moldy logs)

Pink frogs are a specialty of the house
Served on rice with a head of a mouse
Folks demand jugs of curlique beer
It starts cloudy and then it turns clear

For dessert diners love snail cream pie
It’s served with live snails piled high
The snails crawl all over the table
I retrieve them if customers aren't unable

BUT I’m your husband you treat me like dirt
You stand smiling whilst I do the hard work
So I really don’t have time to sit
In fact stuff your job honey - I QUIT!

Please pull up a chair Contest 
sponsored by Jerry Curtis

05~01~17

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