My pasta is unpalatable
it’s dancing across the dish
I’m really rather wondering
if I should’ve fried some fish.
The farfalle is flirting
with rotund rotini
whose eye is on
the fattened fettuccini
The spaghetti is snorkeling,
submerged in the sauce,
but the zealous ziti is zipping about
and trying to prove who’s boss.
The tagliatelle is touchy
around the pensive penne
and couscous is kissing
the picky pappardelle
My orzo is ogling
at ruffled riccetti
and my gnocchi is knocking
for my pining pizzoccheri
The linguini is languishing;
the rotelle is a refugee
from finicky farfalline
and anglo-agnolotti
My pasta is unpalatable--
the entire kit and caboodle!
Maybe I should let it go;
now that’s using the old noodle.
© copyright by Isabelle Lahaie, 2009
Monday, March 8, 2010
Unpalatable Pasta
Posted by Isabelle Lahaie at 5:09 PM
Labels: Isabelle Lahaie, poetry, Unpalatable Pasta
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