• Life,  Poetry

    Friday Poetry for 15 December 2017

    Facebooktwitterrssyoutubeby feather

    Another from the deep vault, the date on this silly piece, according to the original file, is 02 November 1999, and it concerns possibly the greatest food ever created, pizza. Once, years before this poem, while a university student, I ate pizza for twenty-three (that’s 23) consecutive meals. Oh, not all from the same pizzeria, and not all with the same toppings, and not all at the same temperature. It is, it is, a glorious thing to be the pizza king.


    Ah, pizza

    Food of the gods

    But no other food

    Puts more people at odds

    Anchovies, sausages

    Mushrooms and cheese

    Onions, green peppers

    Pineapple, chick peas

    Toppings galore

    A list without end

    How to decide

    Between you and a friend

    Tomatoes and ham

    Ground beef, pepperoni

    Baked in an oven

    On a platter that’s stony

    Or perhaps in a pan

    Or a hot barbecue

    One thing about pizza

    There’s no limit for you

    To cook or to slice

    In sauce or in spice

    The food of the gods

    Is never the same twice

    Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather