Betty Spaghetti
(A Children’s Poem for Adults)
Betty Spaghetti had long stringy hair,
Just oodles and oodles and oodles.
It hung down her back and it went everywhere
And looked like a nest full of noodles.
Betty Spaghetti shunned carrots and peas
As Nettie, her mother, had taught her..
Her father was some kind of really big cheese,
But got in a lot of hot water.
Betty Spaghetti chose never to wed;
Who knows what her reticence meant, eh?
However, it’s said she was found once in bed
With gastronome playboy Al Dente.
Betty Spaghetti grew older and cross,
Refusing to laugh or to smile;
In town many swore she’d been hitting the sauce
(A red in the Florentine style).
Betty Spaghetti expired yesterday,
And so my sad tale is all done
Of one signorina who’s now pasta way—
I’ll close with that terrible pun.
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Summarized
Oh Guest, a word:
I shot a bird
Without excuse.
All hell broke loose:
They turned, the crew,
A ghostly hue;
I suffered strife
With Death-In-Life,
Then–rotten luck—
Our ship got stuck.
Was cold, was hot,
But learned a lot.
My torment ceased;
I’m back, at least.
Enjoy (somehow)
The wedding now.