Showing posts with label canned goods. Show all posts
Showing posts with label canned goods. Show all posts

Saturday, November 5, 2016

The cure



Like most people,
I know more than most people.

Taboo topics, like religion and politics
have no place out of doors,
less is more-saying wise.

Opinions, as I have said before, are canned 
goods, homemade tastes better.

Did you notice the leaders need more followers?
I have no doubt their pantries are stocked. 

Perhaps taste requires focus.
Pickling causes swelling. 

All people only recognize five objects at a time, 
so how would leaders know a lover from a hater
up front?

Or a pickle from a cucumber...
Precisely my point. 

There is no crime in popularity contests,
pretty packaging by poll, you follow?

Me neither. I will walk away
and say nothing about knowing 
anything about anyone
anymore.

Unless I thought my opinion may be expired
until I checked the label noticing a 
dangerous dent
where it says 
Homemade Poetry
concentrate.



Photo By Bruce Bisping, 1953-, Photographer (NARA record: 1888360) (U.S. National Archives and Records Administration) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Paltry pantry


Opinions are like canned goods;
I have found
none mind donating
some of their supply-
sealed potential in
security stackable stock
piled and lined up but inedible
without the proper cutting tool.

My grandfather ran
American Canning Company
across the great pacific railways
back in the good ol' days;
which goes to show
not everything keeps
nor is good to preserve
for all ages.

Do not forget, they suggest
dents and dings
are deadly defects, flaws
in this manufactured
metallic mix,
with an added bias of botulism.
Yum.
When you swallow,
you will know
its poison
by the after taste.

As for opinions,
fresh is always better.





Image By Daniels, Gene, photographer, Photographer (NARA record: 8463941) (U.S. National Archives and Records Administration) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Tres (trace)

Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...