My mom suffered from

Munchausen Syndrome by Mennen.

At night she would to surreptitiously

spike my ovaltine with skin bracer.

 

At my lowest moment,

when I was addicted

to brine shrimp,

***

friends would warn me,

***

Man, you have a sea monkey on your back!

***

but I couldn’t hear them 

***

for I was off again

to see the

pet-store man

A bathtub is

a spider-web

to a spider

---

“Now who is not going anywhere?” said the Moth.

You could be swinging on a star

If you take any stock in

what Bing Crosby says

When the fork

ran away with the

spoon no one

was more surprised

than me.

“Talking ‘Bout Spam”

written & performed by George J. Raymond

Copyright© 2016 all rights reserved

---

Come in little cans

had a lot of fans

in the army infantry

***

Some people hate

but a lot of kids ate it

growing up near Waikiki

***

Mama said,

“It’s good for you”

She would serve it with a grin

And it’s not surprising

after eating it all our life,

to be in the shape were in

***

Comes in a can

kind of tastes like ham

you don’t want to see

it made

***

We ate a lot of it

and started to love it

fried up with

rice and egg

***

It was quite a feat squeezing

Hawaiian steak

into that little tin

since i left home

sure miss mom

but i don’t miss the indigestion

***

Talking about Spam …

***

Slice, dice it, fry it up

and spice it

It made me what I am

***

Spam, Spam, Spam

***

When I go back

to look up my old friends

in Honolulu

We pops some beers

and eat a lot of

Spamalulu stew

***

Mama said …

***

Talkin’ ’bout Spam …

“Every day underground is a good day.”

— the worms

When I die

I want to have

no regrets

about having

so many regrets.

 

Each time I stop

a microwave oven

with one second left

on the timer, I

begin to wonder if

I should get a job

defusing bombs.