JordiScrubbings.com

Here is a little poem I’ve been noodling with over the last week. Something random.

Kitchen spatulas

Attack like tarantulas

Spare only neighborhood treasurers

Their spouses locked in slaughterhouses

Banging for help in the code of Morses

General spoons riding in on horses

Phlebotomists tangle with solutions

Nooses tied around the handles of knives who doth protested

The damnation of dalmatians

While those bitten by Siamese kittens

Could only count the scars.

Pots and pans lay the groundwork

Microwaves keep the frequency

Communications flow easily

Through comparable components used to cooperation

Can openers slice their way past defenses

Soulless toasters dance to the rhythm in sequences

Victory employed coroners

The result of woks whacking their owners

Business was good the day

Mixers, whiskers, and egg beaters turned the tables

And revolted against the eaters.

Note: after finishing this poem, I googled “spatulas”. Apparently the Internet is a strange place and I am not the only one inspired by the idea of violent kitchenware. Check out the movie Spatula Madness. It is about a group of spatulas who fight giant wooden spoons. Although not quite the animated version of my poem, it is close enough for me to know “Kitchen Revolution” will never be turned into the next Avatar.

Oh well.