the weekly poem.com

Sugar Sugar

 

I’m your large chai latte

Don’t you think I’m sweet?

If you are not a fatte

You will be one tout suite

Your clothes may well be natte

But soon, if you indulge

Even your pilattes

Won’t take away your bulge

 

Your life will be in tatte

You may as well scoff chips

Your friends will all be catte

And poke you in the hips

Where feet went pitte patte

They’ll thunder and they’ll thump

Because you were so pratte

And drank from Costa’s sump

 

Jacques as in Hatte

Liked coffee – not this sweet

Your brain will be like patte

You’ll wear a winding sheet

Do not be coffee-scatte

Beware that siren voice

Absinthe killed E. Satte

It was a safer choice

 

Isadora, in a Bugatte

Arrived at sudden death

And sugar makes you batte

May also cost you breath

Next time you chitte chatte

Stay off the caffeine pail

So you can be Jack Spratte

And live to tell the tale

 

 

 

Click here for a BBC story

 

Click here for a link to the magazine Light, where Bill is the featured poet

 

 

 

Sugar Sugar

Costa and Starbuck’s and KFC and Caffe Nero were found selling products containing the equivalent of 15-20 teaspoons of sugar.


Feb 17 2016

POETRY KIT WEBRING

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