Grotesque pinkish mass
In a blue can on a shelf
Quivering alone
Like some spongy rock,
a granite, my piece of spam
In sunlight on my plate
Oh Argentina!
Your little tin of meat soars,
Above the pampas
The color of spam
Is natural as the sky;
a block of sunrise
Little slab of meat
In a wash of clear jelly
Now I heat the pan
Oh tin of pink meat
I ponder what you may be;
snout or ear or feet?
In the cool morning
I fry up a slab of Spam
A dog barks next door
Pink tender morsel,
Glistening with salty gel.
What the hell is it?
Ears, snouts and innards,
A homogeneous mass.
Pass another slice.
Cube of cold pinkness
Yellow specks of porcine fat.
Give me a spork please.
Old man seeks doctor.
"I eat SPAM daily", he says.
Angioplasty.
Highly unnatural,
The tortured shape of this "food".
A small pink coffin.
Hannibal Lecter
Eats livers, but no pig snouts.
Silence of the Spams.
What is more awful
Than the sound of squishing Spam?
A Kenny G tune.
Wedding catered by
Hormel. Reception marred by
Sudden illnesses.
Coincidentally, we had recently been corresponding with a Professor Soya, of Tokyo, who had discovered two such Haiku's in a fourteenth century manuscript by Sashimi, a famous warrior monk and his Buddhist nun consort, Sushi. How mysterious this universe is!
Here's the one by Sushi:
Slicing your sweet self
Salivating in suspense
Sizzle, sizzle... Spam
Here is Sashimi's:
Pink beefy Temptress
I can no longer remain,
Vegetarian
Note: The text of the first line seems to be corrupt. Other
readings are "Pink porky Temptress" and also "Pink
SNOUTY Temptress" (Saito, Transcendental Buddhist Poetry
of Medieval Japan, 1956, p. 384).