Today, I’m going to start a series called “Lunch Break Poems,” or “LPB.” I was going to call them “One Hour Poems,” but–alas–I don’t always take an hour for my lunch break. But I do eat! So, Lunch Break Poems.

And really, many of my “attempts” at “poetry” are things written during a break of some sort, or even in my head during a few moments of silence. Therefore, this isn’t really the first lunch break I’ve constructed a poem, or “ditty” as I’m apt to call them, but it is the first “Lunch Break Poem,” because, you know, I never titled them as such until now. Obviously.

Today’s inaugural LPB poem is, “Bristol Wants The Food,” because, well, my dog Bristol wants the food. All. The. Time. It’s written to the tune of Whitey on the Moon, by Justin Hurwitz and Leon Bridges:

It’s Six-Thirty AM
And Bristol wants the food

I go use the bathroom
And Bristol wants the food

I put on some warm clothes
And Bristol wants the food

I take her for a walk
And Bristol wants the food

I take her back inside
And Bristol wants the food

I watch her whirl around
And Bristol wants the food

I fill a cup of food
And Bristol wants the food

I pour it in her bowl
And Bristol wants the food

I hear her scarf it down
Now Bristol wants the treat.