Fifty Pizzas
This is one of the amazing poems in David Larsen’s book The Thorn (Faux Press). Get this book now.
Fifty Pizzas
Fifty Pizzas sent to my house,
Pizzas nobody could love:
Ten pizzas heaped amain with boiled owl
Ten fat with boiled dove.
There were four and twenty blue jays
Baked in seven deep dish pies,
Eleven pizzas strewn with seagull
Plucked from arching landfill skies,
One giant strangled ostrich pizza
Streaching nigh on six feet wide,
Another topped with roasted peacock
Boasting still its outrageous hide,
Four swollen duckbill pizzas
Five whereon mute ravens sang,
And as my hands received the last one
(Whippoorwill) the church bells rang.
He left my front porch rank and groaning,
That mysterious pizza guy,
And feathers trailed him as he sauntered
Back to his gore-flecked Hyundai.
