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Even chocolate
won't cure my Chipotle breath.
Damn you red onions

But if Chipotle
justifies my eating Dove,
well then, bring it on.

-Katie B.

never remember
what the naked burrito
is called til too late.

fajita, my love
your medium salsa makes
me go ha-cha-cha

-Cathy S.

Tantalizing thoughts
Haunting my marketing mind
Burrito on brain.

-Stephanie S.

New faces at lunch
make me feel so popular.
Chipotle hubris.

Goldfish named Dumptruck
Didn't make it through the night
Mourning burrito

-Donald B. wrote this poem out of sympathy for The Fuzzkill's pet disaster.

Lunch at Chipotle
Surrounded by five women.
Burrito pimpin'.

Ate lunch at my desk.
Accomplished a lot, but
oh did I miss the 'pot.

I like hot salsa
Guacamole costs extra
Cures my hangover

-email submission by Lauren M., who should write a Lifetime movie about Chipotle

Told the cashier girl
that I'm not stealing soda.
I drink lemonade.

Talking about porn,
table neighbor listened. No
privacy at 'pot.

Almost tried the pork,
but chicken called out to me.
Creature of habit.

Yet again, two peeps
at table for four. Don't know
why this burns me up.