POETRY
Poet Pieman
Perfecting pizza, poetry
Simple Simon was a pieman serving pies, but never rhymes. Had a son, dough-hater, Lyman, committing poems like they were crimes.
“What’s wrong, Lyman, why so forlorn,” asked Simon, “would you like a slice?” “No thanks, my poem in shreds was torn, the editors said, ‘Won’t suffice!’”
“So here I am, back at square one, just making pies while on my feet, I need to write a poem that’s fun, to gain acceptance and a Tweet.
“It has to rhyme! No free verse joke — they asked for herbs and salt and spice. Those editors, they blow no smoke, but only blow back terse advice.
“I’ll poem about the birds and bees, blue sky above and big green trees. For toppings, I’ll add niceties, and reaffirm my aim’s to please.
“The final product — cool as ice. Gelato? — no, but just as nice! This one’s on me. I’ve paid the price for serving poems with too much vice.”
Author’s note: A special Thank you to Joe Váradi, Mary Holden, and Laura Sheridan for working with me to improve this poem. It draws inspiration from the classic nursery rhyme “Simple Simon.”
For more light-hearted reading on the geometrical curiosities of pizza, here’s a free sample:
