Twenty-two pence pitta bread
Packed into the product shed –
Plenty for poets widely read
Or plebeian poets in poverty.
Salty sweet is the pitta bread,
The pick of prices for the week.
Place before me plain pitta bread,
And I’ll partake of perfidiously.
Ev’ryone likes pitta bread
Posh and prole-kind equally.
Please give us all pitta bread,
And we’ll pursue the peace you seek.
This poem is a light-hearted ode to the pitta bread I had for lunch today. It is not a serious suggestion of a solution to social differences. It is, however, a great solution to my student budget. Any of you lot like pitta bread? Any exciting stories? Comment – or comment on the poetry, if you really must…
The Hapless Neo-Romantic