I Am Not Alone

Today I was treated to some student poetry. A student I had in class last year shared with me a poem she had written in 9th grade that addresses a subject near and dear to my heart. That's right, ladies and gents, chicken nuggets. Here, without further ado, is an excerpt from said student's poem, "Ode to Chicken Nugget Thursday." I was granted permission to post it here.

Ode to Chicken Nugget Thursday

I wake on Monday longing for
The aroma wafting through the door.
Crispy tenders in my sleep,
Counting nuggets as if sheep.
Mounds of comfort on Styrofoam,
Deserving of utensils chrome.
Tuesday comes, two days to go,
My dreary life drags on so slow.
Alas, alas, what do I see?
A nugget oasis in front of me!
So close to me and yet so far,
If served on silver, fit for a zar.
It's Wednesday now and I can't wait,
Nuggets and spuds will soon meet fate.
Oh how my mouth waters all the day long,
I yearn for the sound of the lunch-bell gong.
And as I lay me down to sleep,
Visions of rolls into my head creep.
Woo hoo, hooray, it's Thursday now,
Can't wait to dig in to delicious chow!

I couldn't have written it better myself. And, lucky for me, in my world, chicken nuggets come on Tuesday, and that is tomorrow. I am getting hungry just typing this! I surely hope I can manage it this week. Last week was just awful. Just awful.

Note: the photo above does not do justice to the gustatorial beauty that I experience each week. Our nuggets come with mashed "potatoes" with "gravy" and a "roll." Sometimes, we even get a second "vegetable." No cookie. And get that ketchupy dipping sauce outta here. That is what the "gravy" is for, baby. Also, I go crazy and hit the choco milk. No weak white milk for this cat. No way.