>S p a m H a i k u :
>
>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, 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
>In 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:
>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 homogeneous mass
>Pass another slice >
>Old man seeks doctor
>"I eat Spam daily", he says.
>Angioplasty >
>Highly unnatural
>The tortured shape of this "food"
>A small pink coffin >
>Pink beefy temptress
>I can no longer remain
>Vegetarian
> > > > > >Enjoy, >Vince
> > > >-- >If I ever become an Evil Overlord . . . .
> >#16. One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child.
>Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected
>before implementation.
> ----------------- End Forwarded Message -----------------