O my little Pop-Tart.
You are cinnamon, with frosting brown.
You have 13 grams of fat, but I don’t care,
For you are delicious.
You call to me from the vending machine window.
Eat me, Jack, Eat me.
Two quarters, a dime, a nickel.
Fuck the toaster, I swallow you … raw.
Thank you, hipsters.
Pop Tart blasphemer
cinnamon can not compare
with the mighty S’Mores
Pop Tart Haiku
Marshmallow makes me puke.
– A one line poem.
Pop Tarts not toasted
was my college breakfast food
freshman fifteen…me?
oh oreo pop tart
by far the best
trying to find you
is a mighty hard test
you are not at walmart
not at superone
i’ll find and i’ll eat you
you sun of a gun 
Oh Pop-Tart!
You are so cruel!
Your icing so snowy and white!
Beneath that brittle frost
Lies the sludge: sweet as dreaming,
A poisoned promise.
I snarfle the crumbs from the wrapper,
Weeping.
Cinnamon Poptart
Behind the counter only
You’ll find all her films
One word: Ouch.
