Poet critics beware.

This is the product of boredom, a bad at work dinner, and perhaps too much cold medicine,

Popcorn

Insubstantial puffs of crunchy air,
Sugary, sweet, not good to eat,
but I don't care.

Filling, bloating, sticks in teeth,
makes me weep.

Tricks my stomach,
fools my eyes,
thickens my thighs.

Tires my jaws as
crunch, stick, crunch, stick, suck.

Stomach full,
hunger unabated.

Oh well, I never claimed to be a poet, but it made me laugh so I thought I'd share :)