Spam
By Don Iannone

We ate spam
when I was a young boy.
Reluctantly so, I might add.
Disgusting stuff.
Horrid tasting, even fried
and served up with gobs of ketchup.
Mom tried tricking us
into eating the slithery, sliced, spiced ham
and who knows what else amalgamation.
She'd hide it under a fried egg,
a slab of Velveeta cheese, and even once
she tried to disguise it as meatloaf.
The taste was distinctive;
much like castor oil or K-rations
left over from World War II.
Hormel has even stooped so low
as to create a Spam Museum,
and sponsor annual Spam fests.
Give me a break!
Beware. Just last year,
Hormel came out with Spam Singles, and
no these are not unmarried Spam eaters.
You got it.
We're talking single packaged slices
of the gristlely, greasy stuff.
Don't bother buying me a ticket
to the Ohio Spam Fest this year.
I think I'm busy.