Funeral At Popeyes

The job of the heart A constant throb Mere kernels until all is cob The swab of eyes Please do advise Popeyes That savory smell In a crunchy shell A munchy crisp Misspelt in emotion Chunky potatoes drizzled in gravy Honey drenched on top of biscuits Mac & cheese Taking apart the sorrow of that cob like heart Even if for a while Least the stomach feels better