It Could Have Been Spaghetti
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
As icky as it seems to me
down near my hairy feet.
A yellow curl that made me sick.
A half a morsel not too thick.
That lay there still just like a worm
and made my stomach start to churn.
It could have been spaghetti
that I passed out on the street.
In sauce that lasts forever
in a place it will secrete.
Spaghetti!
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment