Sing, muse, of the breakfast burrito
The promised deliciousness of daybreak
Eggs, bacon, hash:
That which is so fulfilling
Warming a millennial’s soul
So she may go about her day
But sing, muse, of the
tasteless
shapeless
unsatisfying roll
Delivered fresh from the office fridge
Microwaved according to instructions
Sing, muse, of the unnecessary onions
Jammed into the entire burrito
Unwelcome in most cases
But especially in such quantities
Sing, muse, of this breakfast tragedy
And of the eldritch millennial herself
Who had onion breath the rest of the day