By: Chris Isaacson
Every teen tall in Dhall likes pasta a lot
But the chef who lived south of deli did not!
The chef hated pasta! The whole pasta station!
No one knows quite why, not one soul in the nation.
It could be, perhaps his clogs were too tight.
It could be his named hat was not written quite right.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small
For whatever reason, his clogs or his heart
He hated all students, whether sporty or loved art
Staring down from his bar with a frown on his head
At all the smiles from blue side all the way to red
For he knew every tingling nose near or far
Was eventually going to draw close to his beloved pasta bar
“They’re plugged into music!” he snarled with a sneer
“They’ll try to order pasta with one bud in their ear!”
“They’ll drum their fingers my black table top!”
“I yell at them to cease, I yell at them a lot!”
It makes noise! Oh the noise! Oh the noise noise noise!
There’s one thing I hate! All the noise noise noise!
One student approached with a single bud in ear
The chef begrudgingly sulked his way near
The student asked for some pesto spaghetti
The chef responded you better forgetti
“Order your food or listen to your ear buds!
Everyone knows you can’t do two things at once!”
The student stared Blankley looking confused
He stopped the chef’s rant, “I paused it for… you”
The Chef fell the floor, locked by his thighses
He screamed for help as his heart grew 3 sizes
“Jesus fuck shit, I sing breathlessly
I now know what it feels to have empathy!”
The chef put down his penne, the student their bag,
And walked out hand in hand with their asses-a-wag.