From: here@there.com (Me)
Newsgroups: alt.plastic.utensils.spork.spork.spork,alt.utensils.spork
Subject: Spork Poetry periodic posting
Date: Tue, 14 Nov 1995 16:00:52 -0800
Organization: Large Fuzzy Room
NNTP-Posting-Host: freud.be.com

All bow to the spork,
Lovely plastic work of art,
In rainbow colors
=====

 I am the spork man,
 Missing my odd-numbered teeth,
 Left by the wayside 

=====
Wonderful future,
Dancing, laughing, shiny sporks,
Ruling this happy world
=====
Here is modern man,
Pondering the age-old thought:
"Two tines? Three? Or four"
=====
food or philosophy,
wielding our sporks with panache
life itself is tined
=====
The Spork, true beauty,
the tines, the bowl, the long stem
life now is complete


=====

                       ~  ODE TO A SPORK  ~

    O Flaming Goddess
    White
    Chaste
    Pure

    So smooth in Thy nature
    Graceful
    Encompassing
    Spoon

    'Ere Edged, to maim
    Ragged
    Deadly
    Fork
 
    Bastardized abbhoration of nature!
    Elegant hybrid of wonderment
    Shrink-Wrapped Corpse Prone To Molestation!
    Clad in a shimmering gown, ready to reveal beauty.
 
    Spork.

=====

Here I sit, all broken hearted...
I'm about to eat, but I haven't quite started.
Don't have a spork, fork nor spoon.
Without utensils in the middle of June.


=====
SPORKIE (To the tune of "Brandy")

There's a sailor, in a coastal town
He's unhappy and he wears a frown
He's got a spoon and he's got a fork
But he'd rather have his spork

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a good fork you'll never be
But you're still my favorite utensil, out at sea

There's a meal that he wants to eat
He wants to scoop some soup and jab some meat
There's a tool that'll set him free
And Sporkie is her name

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
And a good fork you would be
If your tines were a little bit longer, and more than three

All the sailors get together to brag
About their eating utensils and their seaman's bag
But this one sailor, ridicules their forks
And talks about his Spork

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a good fork you'll never be
But you're still my favorite utensil, on the sea

Stranded on a desert isle
He's got his spork so he still wears a smile
When the cannibals try to eat him up
He kills them with his spork

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a bad fork you do be
And an even more lousy ladle and slicer of cheese

Out at night on a stormy day
The wind is high and there's hell to pay
Another sailor washes overboard
But he dives in after his spork

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a good fork you'll never be
But you're still my favorite utensil, under the sea

Well he's lying in a watery grave
But his spork he did manage to save
Now he cradles her in his arms
And keeps her safe from harm

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a good fork you'll never be
But you're still my favorite utensil, under the sea

In the end, when he was old and gray
Thinkin' 'bout the ones that got away
A hundred ladies, a hundred ports
But he always had his spork

Sailor says Sporkie, you're a fine spoon
But a good fork you'll never be
But you're still my favorite utensil, on the sea