Friday, September 6, 2019

Poem For A Thursday: Coluccio

Where Has All The Mayo Gone?

Hungry late I clank around
the kitchen for a snack.
A pickle first and then why not
I peel apart a pack
of luncheon meat, some Swiss, a leaf
of something limp and wan.
And now oh no the lid's on tight
but look--the mayo's gone. 
It feels like only yesterday
I parked my father's car
and peeked at other shopper's carts
and tootled to a jar 
for slathering on hot dogs
and for dolloping on frites--
there's loads of foods whose fatty goodness
mayonnaise completes. 
My pumpernickel won't go down.
It's like a warning bell,
the chilly clink of stainless steel
on glass. I know it well. 
And wonder under nibbles
if at bottom human lives
aren't always scraping empty jars
with tips of pointless knives.

-Pino Coluccio

I'm more a mustard person myself, but I will admit to being amused by this poem nevertheless. It's classic close observation leading to a more general insight. I especially like 'tips of pointless knives.'

Pino Coluccio is a contemporary Canadian formal poet. This is from his first book of 2005. He has a new book of poems out from Biblioasis titled Class Clown.

Jennifer is featuring a great W. B. Yeats poem this week. 


  1. I'm not only a mayo person...I like Miracle Whip *gasp*

    I like this. It makes sense. I have a real fear of poetry. I expect not to understand it so I typically skip it.

    1. Not Miracle Whip! No! ;)

      I know: poetry does often seem to be needlessly difficult. It's one thing if it's old, and difficult because the language is old, but I generally like stuff with rhyme & meter that's comprehensible. So, yes! But sometimes poetry you can read is out there.

      Thanks for having a look, even if it is poetry!

  2. What a great poem! Totally made me smile.