Fast Food Blues
.
Another
shift behind
the counter.
.
“Do you want
fries with that?
Super-size?”
.
My fake smile
is unfeigned
on pay day.
.
This poem is a tricube. 3 stanzas each of 3 lines each with 3 syllables.
Fast Food Blues
.
Another
shift behind
the counter.
.
“Do you want
fries with that?
Super-size?”
.
My fake smile
is unfeigned
on pay day.
.
This poem is a tricube. 3 stanzas each of 3 lines each with 3 syllables.