Monday, March 15, 2010

I feel like writing bad poetry today

Dear bacon, I love your crispy edge,
much better than any fruit or veg
In quiche, on burgers, piled in bowls
Your virtues everyone extols.

Dear lima beans, you vile lumps,
You ought to come with stomach pumps
And warnings telling diners how
They need to lower expectations now

Dear litter box, why must you smell
Like bathrooms out of Taco Bell?
I scoop, and scoop, and scoop, and scoop
And still I find you full of poop

Dear aspirin, calm the red alerts
I feel inside my head (it hurts!)
Please fill my thoughts with peaceful scenes
Completely free from lima beans

Dear Shakespeare, dirty looks you gave
Stop rolling over in your grave
I'll stop writing now, I promise,
And this last line won't even rhyme.
.

7 comments:

Grace said...

You have quite a relationship with food LOL

PattiKen said...

You always make me smile.

But, hey, I like lima beans! Butter, salt and pepper... de-lish. (I'm with you on the litter box, though.)

Janna said...

Grace: I try!

PattiKen: (Note to self... send all my lima beans to PattiKen.)

MikeWJ at Too Many Mornings said...

J.D. Salinger helped you with this before he died, didn't he? He loved bacon.

Janna said...

MikeWJ: Yes. Originally I wanted to name the book "Catcher In the Ham On Rye With Bacon And Swiss With A Touch Of Honey Mustard", but he thought it was too wordy.

MikeWJ at Too Many Mornings said...

Salinger was soooo full of himself. I like your title much better! And now I'm hungry again.

Janna said...

MikeWJ: Me too. Now I'm in the mood for "Catcher in the pizza with sausage and pepperoni."