Hotzi Biscuit Sammie
Hotzi

What’s something great about the midwest?

Gas station breakfasts. Yep. So, I wrote a poem.

I like to stay up late

  And then I like to sleep in

  I like to tempt fate

  And try to make it to McDonald’s by ten

  You see, it’s a win-win.

 

Except…

When the clock hits 10:30

And no more breakfast is to be had

If it weren’t for the QT across the street,

I would be quite… upset and disappointed.

 

You are always sitting there waiting for me

As yummy as could be

Which one will I choose this morning?

Compared to this, lunch is totally boring!

The croissant or the biscuit?

Oh, hell, why would I risk it?

I’ll get both for three bucks.

How many calories is that?

I don’t really give a —-!

 

The fluffy, buttery croissant with its sausage, egg, and cheese

Brings my oh-so-sophisticated palate to its figurative knees.

And the biscuit, with its dense texture and tasty flavor,

leaves me wanting another one only minutes later.

 

I pop you in the microwave

to make sure you’re heated through

Then I rip off your crispy white packaging

(Of course, I pay before I do)

 

The first bite can’t come soon enough

I want to taste you in my mouth

There exist no other breakfast sammie

That I am so nuts about.

 

I’ll eat every last crumb

And scrape the cheese off the wrapper

And then, when I’m done,

It’s straight to the crapper.

 

When I plan a vacation,

There is only ever one limitation

The breakfast must be tasty

Or else, my vacation was just a time wasty.

 

So, the next time you awaken

And desire a morning meal sensation,

You’ll never again be mistaken-

Just drive to your local QT gas station.

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