The Popcorn Asylum.



An Oak Aged Yeti, cracked and sipped to christen

Measuring cups in a stainless steel kitchen


Prison art laced the walls, brick asylum

To prove the bleak theme we had radio silence


I once spied a man, Peter Bread was his label

Five minutes or more, as he tried to finagle


Too small a black bag, too large of a trash thing

He struggled and strived, I was spellbound, unblinking



I arrived at the shop a dewy morn’ at dawn,

Diesel was there on the floor; all along


Pupils were grand. A tallboy Beerita

Vomited twice and I told him to beat it


We chatted on Tity Boi, 2 Chains and Molly

Hip hop and Glocks; classic caramel corn folly



I got the sad news and I poured out some lager

Diesel now drinks in the Halls of Valhalla


Dark Lord Day snacks and Northdown and Temperance

Chicago’s Best shop now lies in remembrance


Diversey and Lincoln our enchanted corner –

We lift up a measuring spoon in your honor


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