Macaroni, ugh.
Bland and bowed noodle
deceiving nations
with its hollow hole,
lacks exquisite cheese.
Wretched, pathetic.
The poor man’s pasta.
Tortellini, oh!
Pockets of fresh ricotta.
Basil parmesan!
Tomato gouda!
Scrumptious! Illustrious!
Bequeathed by gods.
A tragedy my
traitorous stomach
cannot ruminate
this enchanting food.
Haunted by this one
existential flaw.
Bloat, thief of my joy.
By: Lindsay Jankowski