Making poetry out of a sow's ear
Scrapple, the ultimate mystery meat, turns out to be quite the poetic muse.
John is returning to The Sun, but he is not on the payroll yet. So I offered to buy him a pound of Truck Patch Farms scrapple for his trouble.
"I'll do it on the condition that you do NOT give me any scrapple," John replied.
And the winners are:
First place: "The Emperor of Pork" by Voodoo Pork
"The line 'In abattoir vats offalescent orts' alone would make the shade of Wallace Stevens laugh up his sleeve," John wrote.
Second place: "Piedmont Pastoral" by Laura Lee
"The witches, the young lovers, the classical tag -- this one has everything," John said.
I'll be in contact with you both, Voodoo Pork and Laura Lee, to make arrangements for getting your scrapple winnings to you.
Thanks to everyone who entered the contest. It was great fun.
Here are the winning poems in full.