Today's poems [8.10.08]

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Brian is an idiot!
 And everybody knows
 When he goes to bed at night
 He puts polish on his toes

 Brian is so stupid
 He sucks himself all day
 And when I went to a farm once
 And saw him eating hay

 Brian is a numbskull
 He loves a girl named Jade
 And he wanted her to kiss him so much
 Once he even paid

There was a young man from Cape Grace 
Who blew a fart out into space. 
With gravity's attraction 
And Einstein's reaction, 
It returned and spat shit in his face!

Ode to Spam

                                      by Charlie Johnston



                              Oh SPAM!  Oh SPAM!  Gourmet delight!
                               My food by day, my dreams by night.
                              To carve, to slice, to dice you up -
                           pureed in a blender and sipped from a cup.

                              What shining deity from Olympus knelt
                              down to the earth and hog butt smelt?
                               Creating then man's eternal desire
                              for swine entrails congealed by fire.

                             On some corporate farm, a pig has died.
                              Eyes, tongue, and snout end up inside
                               that cube of SPAM hidden in the can
                                I now hold in my trembling hand.

                               More than mere food, SPAM is for me
                           a hedonistic expression of gluttonous glee.
                         Mottled with pork fat, the pink cube engrosses.
                          My mouth takes it in, my intestine disposes.

                           Long have my arteries clogged to the sound
                          of sizzling SPAM when there's no one around -
                             furtively chewing or swallowing whole.
                            Triple bypass by forty, my medical goal.

                      Other processed meat products I've tried or declined
                        Vienna Sausages, Treet, even pig's feet in brine.
                           Though each may be tasty in different ways,
                             none matches SPAM for gelatinous glaze.

                               That glistening pinkness beckons me
                                   with gristle, fat, and BHT.
                            Oh Spam, my Spam - the taste, the smell -
                              The sacred meat product from Hormel.

There was a young fellow named Perkin
Who always was jerkin his gerkin.
His wife said, "Now Perkin,
Stop jerking your gerkin,
You're shirking your firking, you bastard." 

There once was a woman from France,
Who did an unusual dance.
She'd roll in the grass,
And lick her own ass,
Her sex would put men in a trance.

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