Short Tinned Poems

The Angler 

I’m an angler
In the lake of my mind 
Sometimes I hook 
A big, shiny Alaska salmon
But most of the time 
I live on tinned sardines....

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a tapioca pudding
a rose hip relish
toated bread & dripping dips
evaporated
milk with tinned pears
home brewed beer
Cor !



A  English forties menu...

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Computer spam I really do abhor

   But tinned Spam I have an appetite for

      I liked it in the Army

         And never did it harm me

            And it helped to win the Second World War

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved...

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Yearend dinner

17.13-17 grams of locally produced beef
Add, 18.9 French onions, 18.11 tinned English tomatoes,
Season.

With 18:24 spaghetti


Do not eat.

Poise-on u:


Onp   mark 8:10

{([ switch off
Choices, choices. Choices…. And a bit of a patch of ice patturn....

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Great store cupboard standby
I'm sure,but tinned potatos,
It doesn't matter what you do with them,
They always taste the same,
Boiled,fried,roast,
Sprinkled with cheddar cheese,
Covered with curry sauce,
They still taste like
Tinned potatos.
There must be other food
That suffers from this syndrome,
Can you name one?...

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Tiddles didn’t like his new tinned tea

Fussy 
Pussy

Angry Animal

Shows claws
From paws

Self catering cat

Catch mice
Tastes nice

Caught in the rain

Soggy
Moggy

Time for a sneaky sleep 

Cat nap
On lap

Contented cat

Purry
Furry

March of the Footles Contest Sponsor Timothy Hicks
03~04~16...

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The path disappears
under the foot.
Gently I lay down the  book
and start reading the blank page.

Stainless thoughts.I strip to root.
A stunning revelation
about a tinned dialogue.

Blue hydrangeas
were telling something.
It was time to become insane
on the street.

The lust,
the sex
creeps into the sect. Religion was a proxy
to kill, to achieve a stop.
                        
going nowhere.


Satish Verma...

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Fresh, Tinned Or Frozen


Father was a snap bean, 
that’s all, Sis,
nothing more.
Fresh, tinned or frozen, 
the greens of snap beans vary.

Neighbors in the yard,
clerks at the store,
folks at church, 
you and me and bawling Ma,
for years we fed his strange chameleons

so we can swear, on the Bible,
Father was a snap bean,
that’s all, Sis.
Nothing more.
Fresh, tinned or frozen.


Donal Mahoney...

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