Bluish can of steel
What promise do you hold?
Salty 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, aah, my poultice
Silent former pig
One communal awareness
Myriad pink bricks
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
Like some spongy rock
A granite, my piece of Spam
Sunlight on my plate
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:
Sphincter, ear or snout?
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 homogeneous mass
Pass another slice
Old man seeks doctor
"I eat Spam daily," he says.
Angioplasty
Hardly natural
Tortured shape, elastic food
A small pink coffin
Pink beefy temptress
I can no longer remain
Vegetarian