The white wax bakery bag
Plopped on my desk wordlessly waiting
For a moment when I can start breathing again,
And stop seething.
The white wax bakery bag
Crinkles around a croissant
Glazed and filled with clairvoyant understanding.
The word of the day, is restraint, you say?
I know that you could, and you would have a good reason
But don't. Here is a laminated lament for you to sing instead.
Tear through layers of butter and frangipane,
-- A word that tastes as good to say as to eat --
Instead of tearing through the building, burning
it down to start again.
The white wax bakery bag
Crumpled on my desk holding crumbs and rage
The white wax flag of surrender.
The word of the day is restraint, you say?
Fine, but I'll complain the whole time
Through a mouthful of laminated lament
Butter, and fragipane.
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