Best Meatballs Poems
So you are choosing Rocky Mountain Oysters over Meatballs
You love to eat them from a zip loc bag at the mall
You grew up in the deep south eating these odd things
For instance, you choose chicken feet with toe nails instead of chicken wings
You said you would eat the Rock Oysters with spaghetti or rice, it really doesn't
matter
Sometimes you eat them fried in a Tempura Batter
Do you ever feel remorse knowing some baby pigs are missing their Pa
All because you prefer Rocky Mountain Oysters over Meatballs
I can't condone your preference for what you would call a tasty treat
Something is wrong passing up boiled eggs for pickled pig's feet
The stuff you eat would have me being a frequent flyer to a bathroom stall
I can't get past you showing favorites to Rocky Mountain Oysters Over Meatballs
Did anyone tell you what they really are
It's not something you eat with a date gazing at the stars
My mind has always been open to try different things
But I need to draw the line eating a male animal's bling bling
I've eaten camel, horse, octopus even legs of frogs
Down in Tijuana, I ate tacos made from dog
You say what's wrong with this, I share these with my in laws
Another advantage is Rocky Mountain Oysters cost less than your run of the mill
Meatballs
Have you tried them with a little bit of Texas Pete
Rumor has it they started with sheep on the island of Crete
I do however like a good seasoned batch of Collard Greens
Can't quite completely criticize the South, I am caught in between
But I do get a kick out of the deep Southern Drawl
But I am still a Yankee when declining Rocky Mountain Oysters over Meatballs
“Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”
Now this one sure grabs your attention
As movie titles go, this one's a hoot
But that was the obvious intention
Titles are always a very important part
Of the success of every author
If you simply called your poem, “A Poem”
How many do you think would bother
During my years as a graphic designer
If there's one thing I found to be true
Must grab your audience right off the bat
The fight for recognition is a zoo
Now if instead of “Chance of Meatballs”
You used the term “Chance of Rain”
What interest d'ya think that would create
None, nil, nada, too tame
The more outrageous, you increase the chance
Of the fame to which you aspire
So now you know, it's straight on to stardom
But a piece of the action I require
© Jack Ellison 2013
Is it or not, that is a luring question?
Is it nobler to remain silent or seek further aggression?
I choose to remain silent and stare at my four walls.
No need to get blind sided by a couple of meatballs.
There is pasta all around, drizzled with a buttery spread.
Finished off quite nicely with a slice of monkey bread.
Garlic baked in to attract all of the sniffers.
But the monkey sits alone, the bread it sure differs.
A lovely ensemble they make quite a pair.
Meatballs and a little pasta, maybe an angel hair.
They should stay on the table and off of the floor.
I’d hate to see these meatballs roll straight out the door.
Spaghetti served with meatballs,
Topped with parmesan,
Slice of cheesy garlic bread,
Green beans on the side,
Then Chocolate Cheese Cake,
For dessert,
Yum!
I talked with my parents this morning (they’re in a time zone that’s 6 hours ahead). I’ll be off, back to school, before they get back. They sound very tired, certainly tireder than they did a month ago.
They’re working with “Doctors Without Borders” somewhere in Poland. We have a fiction between us, that they haven’t been in a war zone for the last couple of months, spending 16 (18?) hours a day, in ineffable, meatball surgery - sewing pieces of people back together.
Although our conversation topics are no more important than soap bubbles, they evoke a kaleidoscope of emotions (in me), our mutual deceptions as fragile as eggshells.
Stretch mark clouds
blotches towards
a carmine spreading sun