Monday, December 10, 2012


By: James Dubeau

Everywhere I go
In my tiny life
Everything must be
Single-serving strife
The coffee
The sugar
Even the cream
And when I do cook
Massive batches are made
Of chili
Or even pasta
To be divvied up
Into single-serving batches
To be eaten as lunches
Over a week or three
For if I don’t
All the groceries go bad
Siting in the fridge
Waiting to be eaten
But I do like to cook
Honestly I do
And would cook even more
But it is just no fun
To be cooking for one

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