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Chapter 1 The Stinker
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Chapter 2 "Snackeral Blues"
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Chapter 3 "Afterlunch"
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Chapter 4 "Dulce et Decorum Eat"
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Chapter 5 "In Fridge’s Fields"
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Chapter 6 "I Wandered Lonely as a Cow"
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Chapter 7 "Indigestus"
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Chapter 8 Shall I Compare Thee to a Takeaway?
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Chapter 9 Shall I Compare Thee to a Cat at Play?
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Chapter 10 Do Not Go Productive Into That Long Deadline
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Chapter 11 The Red Wheelie Bin
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Chapter 12 Ozymandias, King of Crumbs
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Chapter 13 My Last Duchess's Recipe
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Chapter 14 The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock's Intern
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Chapter 15 Because I could not stop for Snacks
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Chapter 16 The Ravenous
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Chapter 17 The Charge of the Light-Snack Brigade
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Chapter 18 This Is Just To Say I Ate The Leftovers
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Chapter 19 We Real Cool Cats
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Chapter 20 Still I Rise...for a Midnight Snack
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Chapter 21 O Captain! My Captain! (The Remote is Lost)
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Chapter 22 The Second Helping
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Chapter 23 Kubla Khan's Takeout Order
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Chapter 24 To His Coy Mistress (Who is Hogging the Remote)
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Chapter 25 A Noiseless, Patient Spider vs. The Vacuum Cleaner
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Chapter 26 The Tyger in the Kitchen
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Chapter 27 Howl (At the Moon for More Pizza)
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Chapter 28 Daddy's Chair is Now Mine
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Chapter 29 One Art (of Losing Your Keys)
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Chapter 30 The Road Not Taken (Because There Was No Parking)
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Chapter 31 If— (You Can Find the Remote)
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Chapter 32 A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning (Over Spilled Milk)
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Chapter 33 Among School Children (Who Have Stolen My Snacks)
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Chapter 34 Leda and the Swan (and the Angry Goose)
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Chapter 35 Sailing to Byzantium (For a Good Kebab)
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Chapter 36 The Waste Land (of My Fridge)
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Chapter 37 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird (Stealing My Fries)
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Chapter 38 The Emperor of Ice-Cream (Has Run Out of Vanilla)
Improved Poems
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE: The Stinker
(Inspired by Rupert Brooke's "The Soldier")
If I should die, think only this of me: That there's a corner of a foreign field That is forever smelly. There shall be In that rich earth a richer stink concealed; A compost heap of socks and mystery meat, Leftovers from the mess hall, half-reheated, Where once I snored, and snacked, and scorched my feet, And with my final breath, most ill-defeated.
A body washed in mud and beans and grime, A soul more gassy than the winds of fate, A legacy of burps that transcend time, With mournful echoes near the camp’s latrines. And laughter, soft, shall rise with dawn’s first light— For even death can’t dull my appetite.
CHAPTER TWO: "Snackeral Blues"
(Inspired by W.H. Auden’s “Funeral Blues”)
Stop all the clocks, they’re far too loud, Unplug the fridge, it hums too proud, Silence the oven with its mournful beep, Let microwave dinners quietly sleep.
Prevent the dog from stealing the plate, Give notice to cheese that it’s far too late, Shut down the kettle, cancel the tea— My sandwich is gone. It was all meant for me.
It was my lunch, my snack, my bite before bed, My glorious hoagie, now tragically dead. My mustard, my pickle, my crunchy delight— Devoured by Dave in the fridge's dim light.
The stars are pointless, the moon's a sham, The cosmos is void of a decent ham. Put out the ketchup, let mayonnaise cry, For nothing is sacred — not even my pie.
This is a sample preview. The complete book contains 39 sections.