It’s lonely being balogna.
When all the hot lunches come.
They pop from the microwave
Calling out, Eat me!
I’m warm, tasty and fresh!
Yet, I stay content
In my cool pouch, zipped bag
Waiting for you to open me.
But you stare at the others
Till the moisture forms.
Then you open me
Jerk me out the bag
Biting me with digust
Savory scruptous vapors floating by
Wishing I was a hot meal.


Dave Barber