Pizza

I was digging through the “Archive” folder on my computer, looking for things I had forgotten about. I found several interesting and elderly things, one of which was a poem I once wrote roughly five years ago as an entry into a Round Table contest. I was decently proud of the silly little poem, but didn’t win the promised 15 pizzas and whatever else they were giving away for the grand prize. It went like this:

In a moment the pizza, divinely created,
Assaulted my senses, at once all abated,
Like the dog that drooled at the ring of a bell
My nostrils were snared by the heavenly smell.
Abruptly my eyes sought the root of this dream
and found a long trail of ethereal steam
Pouring forth from an unfastened window, (still hot!)
My thoughts were whether to taste it, or not.
On the one hand, such pizza’s like fine gilded Gold,
On the other, such treasures are burdens to hold!
Just one piece, I thought, its owner won’t care…
And I ventured to lift the lone slice in the air.
I focused intently to savor the smell,
When at once, on my fingers, the window pane fell.
Imagine, dear reader, my horrible plight –
The pain was immense, and the pizza in sight!
Its owner appeared, (and to smash my glory)
Calmly opened up the window, and inquired of my story.
“There were bombs and guns and ninjas!
Ten lions, five bears and two cats!
They attacked and I defended your pizza
From the thieves and the vampire bats!”
She giggled, I flushed, and apologized
(My tale, a great source of laughter)
“The Truth?” I said haphazardly,
“It was your pizza I was after.”
Ashamed, I told her Love had been
The culprit of this fable;
She laughed, and pointed down the road,
“Go get one at Round Table!”
Delighted, I thanked her again and again
And began my journey (when I was able)
To the place where my Love is baked fresh every day
In the ovens of Round Table!

I stopped entering poetry contests after that – what with my previous failure and all.

One comment

  • I remember the pizza poem. I think it must have been too cognitive for them to use in their advertising with Pavlovian references and utterences of “etherial steam”. Haha.
    Keep writing.
    Logan.

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