No Soup For You
People loved my soup but they hated me.
Everybody referred to me as the Soup Nazi.
I was strict with people and they feared me because I'm scary.
I scream my head off, that's why I've never been able to marry.
Everybody knew something that was certainly true.
When people pissed me off, I yelled "No soup for you!"
I refused to sell soup to a woman for kissing her boyfriend while standing in line.
My rules were going to be obeyed, I don't care that enforcing them was unkind.
I refused to sell soup to a bald man because he wanted free bread.
When a woman found my recipes in my armoire, I wanted to be dead.
Just because I treated her like dirt, she published them and put me out of business.
I had to close my restaurant and return to Argentina, my life truly is a mess.
I demanded discipline, breaking my rules was what I didn't allow.
I will one day return to America and slaughter Elaine like a cow!
(This poem was inspired by a Seinfeld episode.)
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2014
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