Dessert Storm
No one saw it coming,
that warm September day-
Not the workers at the pudding shack
Who mixed sweet treats for pay.
Not the Rookie at the pressure valves
Not the people in the town
It was the Rookies’ rank incompetence
That set in motion what went down.
Nine vats of Snack Time pudding
Exploded with a roar
Three hundred thousand gallons
Went oozing out the door
The workers never had a chance
On this, their final day
Ending up like Easter bunnies
For a giant’s holiday
That mighty wave of chocolate.
Like a Tsunami hit the town.
Sweet creamy death swept over them
Deliciously, they drowned.
Others turned and tried to flee.
They ran for all their worth.
The swift were lucky to escape
This scrumptious hell on earth
The survivors of the snack slide
Lost all they owned in town
It was a diabetics’ wet dream
Everything was chocolate brown.
It was the worst snacktastrophe
Our land had ever seen.
Obama sent marines with spoons
The air force dropped whipped cream.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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