Canned Goods Poem by Percy Flage
Canned Goods
The can, the can of worms,
Holiest in nature.
Candid words can squirm,
Fears needn't be confirmed.
The can, the can of soup,
Warhol the raconteur.
Noodles cry out, 'Whoop! '
One embroidery hoop.
The can, can in my head,
Oh, Louis Pasteur,
Ferment once you're dead.
Ironic thoughts I dread.
(June 21,2010)
Monday, July 5, 2010
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4/24/2024 8:21:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Loving your poems! I love how you play around with semantics :) It's good to read poems with a little humour now and then! :)