Goldberg fiddles, twirling his pastrami
Hears tell of this new Mayor Mamdani
Who would love to say farewell
To the State of Israel
Chicken soup replaced by a tsunami
Poetry is not a pastrami sandwich
Don’t pile the adjectives high
Let the meat greet the customer
Leave room in his mouth for a sigh
Mint Julip and Pimento Cheese
Smith Island Cake and Beef Pit BBQ
Hot Pastrami on Rye and Cheesecake
She offered him the meal
and smiled at him
without saying much more.
he frowned and ate.
asking for only a napkin.
The cold of winter chilled him
to the bone. He neither wanted more
or less he just stood
with his back to the window
and asked
he simply wrote x= arrow up/ arrow down
and started looking to hauler mags to
gain support of his
endeavors.
Ole Fiddle Song
-----------------------------
"The coal of winner
the hoss man say.
disk is hymn say'in
disk.
ya'll know he say disk!
write chair he
say.
win doughs
hymn bacon the soda.,
hymn say!
Can't tucky Fiddle
Ball it More
Bells Mounted
York Strips.
Did@tic
Doer
song foo Ya'll!"
DOGE boys Musk and Ramaswamy
Box their cold cuts with pastrami
They soon will behold
While napkins can fold
Budgets are not origami
~ Pangiella~
9/9/2023
Pangiella wed-a wealthy Pakistani.
He bought her a pricey Mogdiliani!
Plus, an annual supply of Pastrami
Be assured, he was a cultured mensch!
With a penchant to kiss her on any park bench,
For he adamantly adored, his hot-blooded wench!
They wed, had children, by last count, three.
Of course, busy as romantic honey bees.
Living contentedly, on the lovely Isle of Capri.
No more poetry, does wench Pangie ever try to write.
Busy now with family, parties and being socially right.
He keeps her busy with love and Madeira on moonlit nights!
Roast beef on Rye. Pastrami on toast, a Rubin -
I only have thinly sliced bologna. Not hungry anyway.
Beyond a window, a dog is on my lawn, my mind shouts,
surprisingly the dog seems to hear me.
I have powers.
A record player drops into my mind
the vinyl is spinning, the needle is tracing,
silence roars on. I sing along.
I find an old British sixpenny-bit in Ohio
amazing how we all take teleportation for granted now.
A door knob rattles,
my ears get hairy,
am I being paranoid or is this nervous state
the result of living alone in my head for too long?
This afternoon I will still be here
watching my show.
You star you. I always did like your eyes
they shine like flying saucers.
Note. Make the bed before I sleep
I wrecked it last night.
If I remember, I will consider forgetting all of this.
She was my dearest mommy
smarter than any swami
a turn of bad luck
was hit by a truck
now she thinks she’s pastrami
Keep your bacon, keep your ham
Keep your loganberry jam
No pastrami
No salami
In my sarnie I want Spam
Ain’t no bones, ain’t no brains
Ain’t no seeds, ain’t no grains
Slightly spicy
Tasty nicey
Spam ain’t got any veins
And the tin that it’s in
Kinda square, kinda thin
Ring pull lid
Key got rid
Spam don’t slice off your skin
So that’s Spam; good to eat
Not some cheap luncheon meat
Fried or cold
I’m just sold
Because Spam can’t be beat
Best Sandwich Ever
Sam Adams favorite sandwich
Was the make it yourself sandwich
Served at the Ashland Oregon, Co-Op
A modified BLT sandwich on Gluten-free bread
Cheese, roast beef or pastrami, bacon
Sprouts, lettuce, tomatoes, dill pickles, peppers
Mayo, mustard, ketchup
Just heaven in every delicious bite
Hello my name is Pizza
It's me you wants tuh eatsa
You want with lotsa meatsa?
The fave of the Tsaritza!
Sauerkraut in the kitchen
Chased the pastrami away
Now I can’t make a Reuben.
Start of a really bad day.
persians pickled
firm and crunchy,
thin and pint size -
spice them with little red flakes
and briny water.
pack them side by side
in a sparkling jar.
twist, pop that top,
fork-stab those
puckery suckers.
serve:
alongside a sandwich -
perhaps a plump pastrami
or
with dumplings drizzled
with thick and savory gravy
or
combine spears with choice cheese
on an appetizer plate,
pleasing to the palate.
experience the hiss, the crunch,
the sluice of slipperiness —
the bumpy pleasantly-green dill.
2/19/2020
Pastrami on rye, piled up so high
Sauerkraut oozing out from the side
Served steaming hot, with mustard on top
My last sandwich be this ~ gladly I'll die
I want my 2-year-old to laugh.
I want my stepdaughter to do the dishes.
I want someone else to renew my expired tabs.
I want a new belt,
Maybe new pants.
I want my 3-year-old to do a better job of solving her own problems.
I want to hear my wife laugh.
I want sliced pastrami in the “fridger.”
I want my 2-year-old to call the fridge a “fridger” for the rest of his life.
I want to make more money.
I want more time to write.
I want to take my 5-year-old to Hawaii.
I want the New Orleans Saints to win the Super Bowl.
I want peace on Earth.
I want glasses that don’t smudge.
But what do I need?
I need a little more coffee.
Mr. Rudy Giuliani
In New York piles high the hot pastrami
Testifying before Washingtonian swamis
He's begging for extra-thin-sliced salami
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