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Lunch, Lunch, Lunch · Poetry Short Short ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 100–2000
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It's Just Soup
Hey!
Do you like my spread?

You're in luck because I got a meal for you
This quite fine dish was made with much care and love
Got potatoes and carrots all in a stew
There is more coming than can be conceive of

Added in green onions, tomatoes, celery
Along with salt and pepper in a hot bowl
You'll find the taste is interstellary
More broth all available from the bunghole

Soup not your thing, how about this bread
You could make a sandwich or just butter it
Use other ingredients from the farmstead
Assured they are not from the land of cane cutters

Swamps that is!
Hey, come back!
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#1 · 2
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Okay... this starts out sounding like double entendre, and I was never sure either way. "Broth from the bunghole" is a particularly unpleasant image, as it evokes diarrhea for me, but then the ending joke does bring it all around as an unpleasant thing. I can't tell whether there's supposed to be a meter; if so, it's irregular. The rhymes are stretches at times. Kind of like a feghoot, and it did get a laugh from me.
#2 · 1
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Did you really have to
Bring up your lunch?
Brunch!
#3 · 2
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I like this as a ribald play on the rhetorical apostrophe. I find myself wanting to poke around the reeds a little bit—I feel as though there is an innuendo I might be missing, or a punchline I might have overlooked. The rhyme and meter seem intentionally rough.

A few things, though. Either the word ‘bunghole’ means something quite different where I grew up, or you are leaving the reader with an image that will be difficult to get past. Also, the line about the cane cutters could confuse, or even be taken nefariously, as the allusion is not clear, since sugar does not grow in a swamp.

I accept and approve the gusto behind rhyming ‘celery’ with the abominable ‘interstellary’, as long as we agree that we’re being silly.