Poem o' Yesterday

Um, oops. Got so steamed by shoddy science on the teevee that I forgot poetry. So, uh, yeah. Pretend this got posted yesterday, would ye?

Poetry is usually quite serious business, but there’s nothing in the rules saying you can’t be silly. Sometimes, you’ve got to play with your poetry just like you play with your food.

Speaking of food, here’s a little something from Peg Spencer of the Dread Poet’s Society:

About exotic foods

Pickled eggs I’ve had, and worse
The thought of frog legs makes me purse

my lips and gag, but I would try
a fresh polk salad, loaf of rye,

some crab legs, sushi (only cooked!
I’m a doc, you know, I looked

beneath the scope, I did, and ugh
what I saw would make a slug

chuck up his breakfast, so no raw
fish for me), a monkey’s paw

is taking it too far as well.
I’d like a fondue, that’s a smell

that makes me smile, and want to dip
a cube of bread, then take a sip

of Chardonnay, oops there I am
back at wine! alright, then, ham,

but only finest prosciuttos
will make it past my snobby nose

Chinese I’ll eat (the food, I mean)
Italian, Spanish, French cuisine

Hillbilly with okra pie
Better than a stick in your eye

But ask me to avoid Whole Foods?
That goes too far, sir, almost rude!

That place is home, my second larder
Quit I won’t, I’d fight much harder

For organic foods and fresh ones
even though it uses up funds

Cheap it ain’t: just ask Cheapskate
Still its always worth the wait

Don’t believe me? Come for dinner
You don’t like it? You’ll leave thinner

Uh oh, wait a minute, what’s this?
I can’t stop creating bupkiss

Rhyme’s Disease has taken over
Get the hook! I’m done! It’s over.

Great. Now I’m hungry. And with this cat on my lap, starvation or involuntary amputation are my only two options. Nothing for it but to peruse SillyPoems.co.uk:

attraction

by Andy Curtis

I can’t believe how attractive you are.
From the outset, we just clung together
Like reunited lovers
There’s always such a buzz when you’re around
And what’s that aroma?
It’s strangely familiar.

You hold me – tighter, if anything,
And I simply can’t let go.
You make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up
You make all the other ones stand up too
And you’re hot – so amazingly hot!
I can’t even manage to ask for what I really want –
Like, for the electric to be switched off.

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Poem o' Yesterday
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