Poetry

Ode to the Lean Pocket, haiku written while I made lunch

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Rubber crust somehow

lava hot yet still frozen

is this really food?

My roommate forgot to throw his lean pocket package away and it took me back to every single time I have eaten a Hot Pocket or a Lean pocket. I don’t know why we put ourselves through eating these. They come in a little sleeve that is supposed to crisp them which really only succeeds in radiating the inside until it is boiling lava hot. Somehow you are supposed to use this radioactive sleeve to craft a holster so you don’t burn your hands. Then, despite the fact that you just burned your fingertips on this greasy pizza loaf,you put it in your mouth and bite in, instantly regretting every life choice you’ve made thus far. The lava drips down your lips and chin and settles on your shirt. At least now all feeling in your mouth is gone so you can stand the rest of this hot pocket. At least the center is nice and icy to sooth your burned mouth.

The last haiku I wrote on the kitchen whiteboard was lost on my roommates, but that one was about how no one does their dishes.