Caren Krutsinger Poet Light Verse

Neanderthal Soup

The hairiest arm came out of the pot and slapped me.
I slapped it back, angry now, for without a head, 
How could the arm do that?

My husband jumped out of his recliner.
What are you making? He asked.
His voice was shaky.
It is always shaky when I am inventing food.

Don’t worry about it, I told him.
A foot came out and kicked me in the head.
Damn Neanderthal soup!

“What IS THAT?” my nosy husband asked, running toward the hallway
Where he hid like a yellow belly.
His voice was soprano.

“It is supper,” I informed him.
“Go away.”
The hairy arm came out and I whacked it hard with my soup spoon.

“I am not eating that!” He whined.
The pot laughed.
“It is Neanderthal Soup,” I informed him, and you will eat it in droves.

Neither of us could eat it actually
As it slapped us unmercifully 
knocking the soup spoons out of our hands.

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart May 6, 2019 at 1:49 PM LOL! ;D Caren Krutsinger May 6, 2019 at 4:34 PM Maureen, it is not nearly as funny when it is happening during a head cold when you are coughing up phlegm.

Line Gauthier May 4, 2019 at 10:48 AM OMG Caren - where do you dream up such funny scenarios? LOL Caren Krutsinger May 4, 2019 at 3:27 PM I was staring at the word Neanderthal, loving it and it suddenly came to me how funny it would be to write a poem about trying to make Neanderthal Soup that kept fighting back, and how my husband would cower like a little scare-dee-cat. My husband has not read this yet, but I told him I named him Yellow Belly, so he is excited of course!