She blew her fusilli,
my pretty penne,
when she found me watching
daytime tagliatelle.
Je ne spaghetti rien,
I responded in song,
but she did not linguini
for long,
just walked out
without further retort:
a hard lesson to be tortellini,
orzo I thought.
And so here I am
on my macaroni
and now my days
feel cannelloni.
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That is so clever, and so funny, I think I’ll award you a Trofie (which is my favourite pasta, btw).
Ha ha! Thanks, Mary. I’m rather partial to that, too.
Finally a scaffold to truly understand what went on between me and my ex wife. I was struggling to get a gnocchi perspective
I cannot think of any reason to put penne to pasta…but I’ll have a sign anyway.