Thursday, February 28, 2008

Spam-alot


I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering what ever happened to the spam haikus I used to have. Thank you internet......................


Silent, former pig
one communal awareness
myriad pink bricks

Blue can of steel
what promise do you hold?
salt flesh so ripe

Can of metal, slick
soft center, so cool, moistening
I yearn for your salt

Twist, pull the sharp lid
Jerks and cuts me deeply but
Spam, aaah, my poultice.

You wait to feed
mestoic vigil on the shelf
ah my vibrant pink

Jelly for mortar
seven hundred tins and more
I build a Spam house

My friend pork shoulder
I return to you. this time
I've brought mayonnaise

Above all others
porcine treat without equal
there is but one Spam

Clad in metal, proud
no mere salt-curing for you
you are not bacon

And who dares mock Spam?
you? you? you are not worthy
of one rich pink fleck

Grotesque pinkish mass
In a blue can on a shelf
Quivering alone

Like some spongy rock
A granite, my piece of Spam
In sunlight on my plate

Oh Argentina!
Your little tin of meat soars
Above the pampas

The color of Spam
natural as the sky:
A block of sunrise

Little slab of meat
In a wash of clear jelly
Now I heat the pan

Oh tin of pink meat
I ponder what you may be:
Snout or ear or feet?

In the cool morning
I fry up a slab of Spam
A dog barks next door

Pink tender morsel
Glistening with salty gel
What the hell is it?

Ears, snouts, and innards,
A homogenous mass
Pass another slice

Cube of cold pinkness
Yellow specks of porcine fat
Give me a spork please

Old man seeks doctor
"I eat Spam daily", he says.
Angioplasty

Highly unnatural
The tortured shape of this "food"
A small pink coffin

Slicing your sweet self
Salivating in suspense
Sizzle, sizzle...Spam

Pink beefy temptress
I can no longer remain
Vegetarian

Queasy, greasy SPAM
Slithers without propulsion
Across a white plate.

Born in World War Two
Hogs marching off to battle
Dressed in tin armor.

The blue can is square
Why not a circular can?
Too much like dog food.

When I was a kid
Mom would make SPAM casserole
Now she denies it.

If you cut open
A SPAM can with a jigsaw
The blade will smell weird.

Myrrh, frankincense, and
SPAM: the gifts of two wise men
and one complete fool.

Bright lights and cruel cops
grill the suspect pork product
It doesn't confess.

Old retired jocks to
star in ads for new SPAM Lite
"Tastes filling!" "Less great!"

After scrutiny,
me thinks it is doggie food
I eat on all fours.

In mud you frolicked
Till they cut, cleaned and canned you
How now, ground sow?

Cold SPAM canapes
Served up by John Belushi-
Martha Stewart's Hell!

Slice the cold, pink block
Apply to sucking chest wound
Don't need stitches now.

"Slow down," she whispered
now guiding my trembling hands
"Turn the key slowly."

Silken pig tofu
The color of spanked buttocks
Blushing at my knife.

SPAM, too, needs a wife
What consort for my Pork Prince?
Ah! The Velveeta!

SPAM glistens pinkly;
Cat taps it with wary paw
To see if it's dead.

I put my shoes on
But remembered far too late
My secret SPAM stash.

1 comment:

Man Equals Computer said...

These haikus made me laugh aloud. I love it, are they yours?