“cornflakes”

Written for:  The Twiglets #158 – “cornflakes”

When you stay at a hotel
you can always rely
on seeing those miniature
boxes of cornflakes
at the breakfast bar.

Wow, that guy is flaky!
Nah, he’s just corny.

field of golden corn
mother says to daughter
that’s where your breakfast begins

There once was a guy who loved cornflakes
He believed they cured each pain and ache
He woke with flu
Knew just what to do
Glued cornflakes to nose, breathed through hose, now eats hotcakes.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
This entry was posted in Purple's Home and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to “cornflakes”

  1. Violet Lentz says:

    Quite the fun quartet!

    Like

  2. Jules says:

    🙂 Those falling cornflakes as another suggested should be frosted flakes!

    Some hotels have those plastic jars with turn a portions worth into your bowl.

    Wasn’t Mr. Kellogg who truly believed in the ‘corn flake’ – built quite an empire!

    Like

Go on, leave a comment. Keep my ink purple.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.