I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the taste.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—the time that it wastes.
Whether pink and wet and slimy or not,
Ground or sliced, cold or hot—
Innocent-looking but nasty inside,
When I see Spam I want to hide.
I don’t like Spam.
I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the feel.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—the rot it can conceal.
To get Spam in a can, you must drive somewhere.
Spam in my e-mail floats in on the air.
Spam in a can is a choice you can make.
Spam in my e-mail sneaks in like a snake.
I don’t like Spam.
I don’t like Spam in a can, I don’t like the smell.
I don’t like Spam in an e-mail—makes me wanna yell.
Gelatinous mass of unpleasant stuff
Or
Abominable tonnage of verbal duff… I don’t like Spam.
Spam in an e-mail can bear my name.
It can look like one thing yet be nothing the same.
But Spam in a can you cannot disguise;
Chop, grind or casserole it, your nose will be wise.
So if the time came that I must choose
Between Spam in a can and the Not-so-nice News,
I think that I might just make the choice
To toss my can opener… and lose my voice.
I don’t like Spam!
EPILOGUE: I loved my password. I called it my own from the first e-mail I ever wrote. My fingers flew over the keys to type it. It was a word that had fond associations for me. I loved my password. Then one day a Spam message arrived with my return address on it. I opened it, curious. My own face smiled at me from a message I would not dream of typing. I was forced to rummage in the attic of rejected possibilities for a new password. Alas.
Though I might reflect on the futility of railing at Spam with my words, the exercise has at least given vent to my feelings. I have taken a stand against both a culinary fixture of my parents’ generation, and against one of mine. Then or now, I don’t like Spam.
Robin J. Steinweg delights in the Lord homeschooling; writing children’s books; directing, writing and arranging music; teaching students 5-85; leading worship; and listening for the Music of the Master’s voice. Among other things, Robin writes devotionals for the online magazine The Christian Pulse.
Gail, you wonder woman, where did you come up with the perfect clipart for this post? Gail Smith, folks. Give her a hand!
ReplyDeleteThanks for making me laugh. I enjoyed your Spam song though I must confess I liked eating fried Spam when I was growing up.
ReplyDeleteI do delight in a friendly debate now and then, so here are my Spam poems:
Sliced and fried
Spam is great
Serve it with eggs
You'll be glad you ate!
or
On Sunday nights
My mom would fry spam
It would hit the spot
Served with toast and jam.
Lori
My favorite Spam is the Monty Python Spam song. And I have to confess to once attending the Spam-apalooza in Austin, MN, home of Spam, the "meat".
ReplyDeleteFound the photo at my favorite free photo site http://www.sxc.hu/
Very clever! I hope to meet you at the QCCWC, Robin.
ReplyDeleteLori, your two poems are indeed worthy of Spam! ;)
ReplyDeleteGail, my husband and I are still occasionally found singing that M.P. tune!
Marie, I'll be there. It will be fun to meet.
Ladies, thank you for the comments. It was fun to be just plain silly.