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Spaghetti Poem

There’s this raw spaghetti idea

two feet long or more

pale, brittle, uncooked, spiny

all those adjectives that

you’ve been taught to avoid


How to fit it into a poem,

cook it down to something edible

tasty even and you’ve only

got about ten minutes


You could

break it into

make it into

six inch

standard lengths

of repetitious

rhyme scheme


Or slip it slowly, sublime as sensuous

softly swimming sibilant eels that

curve and curl like cables in

undulating wanderings until they

slip-slop heapingly from page to palate


You consider

            chopping         it          into

            un   equal

randomly        distributed


like      they     do

            in         some trendy

            modern            magazines


In the end you settle for

the style that you’re accustomed to

that bolognaise the kids adore

some meaty phrases, ketchupped through


And for yourself you grill a cutlet

and for dessert, a rhyming couplet

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© Johnmichael Simon



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