Ode on a Slice of Pepperoni Pizza

From my beatnik days. I wrote this while I was sitting in my "Drama" class. I call this a "Drama" class as opposed to a drama class (note the capitalization and the quotation marks) because all my friends and I really did was sit around and laugh at the beatnik poetry that I wrote (We got an "A", so don't worry). This poem is to be accompanied by either the rhythmic snapping of fingers, or the rhythmic drumming on tubberware.

A Beautiful Pie of Pepperoni and Cheese
Bathed in a Puddle of Oil and Grease.
Take a Bite.
Wash it down with Sprite.
Feel Your Arteries Clog!
ACK!
Heart Attack!
I am Slain.

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