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An important new literary genre, the Spam Haiku utilizes the traditional Japanese
form to extoll the virtues and explore
the infinite mysteries of that ubiquitous canned meat product. Send me your
contributions at the bottom of the page.
If you want to know more about the Haiku form, go to http://www.shiki.org/contents/matsuyama-declaration.html.
as pink as a rose quivers like jelly Blue can of steel Can of metal, slick Twist, pull the sharp lid Silent, former pig You wait to feed me jelly for mortar My friend pork shoulder above all others clad in metal, proud and who dares mock Spam? Grotesque pinkish mass Like some spongy rock Oh, Argentina! The color of Spam Little slab of meat Oh, tin of pink meat In the cool morning Pink tender morsel Ears, snouts, and innards Cube of cold pinkness Old man seeks doctor Highly unnatural Slicing your sweet self Pink porky temptress
more filling than a lilac
meat flowers as spam
we shiver to touch it
trembling tongues lick - spam!
what promise do you hold?
Salt flesh so ripe
soft center, so cool, moistening
I yearn for your salt
Jerks and cuts me deeply but
Spam, aaah, my poultice
one communal awareness
myriad pink bricks
stoic vigil on the shelf
ah, that vibrant pink
seven hundred tins and more
i build a Spam house
I return to you. This time
I've brought mayonnaise
porcine treat without equal
there is but one Spam
no mere salt-curing for you
you are not bacon
you? you? you are not worthy
of one rich pink fleck
In a blue can on a shelf
Quivering alone
A granite, my piece of Spam
In sunlight on my plate
Your little tin of meat soars
Above the pampas
is natural as the sky
A block of sunrise
In a wash of clear jelly
Now I heat the pan
I ponder what you may be
Snout or ear or feet?
I fry up a slab of Spam
A dog barks next door
Glistening with salty gel
What the hell is it?
A homogenous mass
Pass another slice
Yellow specks of porcine fat
give me a spork, please
"I eat Spam daily," he says
Angioplasty
The tortured shape of this "food"
A small pink coffin
Salivating in suspense
Sizzle, sizzle . . . Spam
I can no longer remain
Vegetarian