Ugly Mug Breakfast Poem - Tuesday Morning

The world was all a bluster and

the wind was painted with smiles
Frankie called it an Eeyore morning

But we were happy!
A happy Eeyore morning!

And I was happy amidst

the swirling yellow pillars

the umbrellas lifting their skirts
to the wet aesthetic Ypsi was wearing

Eeyore held us under his dark donkey paw
We liked it and grinned on the way to class
'til the wind whisked our smiles away

Note: On a far more important note...
After a year of working at The Common Cup, I've finally seen the Men's Bathroom. This whole time there has been a green pillar, and I had no idea! We don't get a green pillar!

Aubree's Dinner Poem - Wednesday Night

If this is your bag, then this is your wallet.

If this is your table, then this is your waitress.

If this is your coat rack, then this is your fleece.
If this is your picture, then this is your face.
If this is your daughter, then this is your family.
If this is your hair, then this is your hijab.
If this is your urine, then this is your problem.
If this is your cubicle, then this is your work.
If this is your house, then this is your party.
If this is your sock, then this is your smell.
If this is your empty beer glass, then this is your drunken walk home.
If this is your spider, then this is your pet.
If this is your hand, then these are my cold fingers.
If this is your butt, then these are your pants.
If this is your friend's, then this is all just a big mistake.
If this is your oyster, then this is your world.
If this is your education, then this is your career.
If this is your garbled speech, then this really doesn't make a lot of sense.
If this is your dictionary, then this is your language.
If this is your long, pensive glance, then here is my coy, heartless dismissal.
If this is your jaw dropping, then these are his secrets.
If this is your floor, then this is my ceiling.
If this is your roadkill, then this is your car.
If this is your death, then this is it.