There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight

This is my attempt at a true crime/romance/poetry crossover and it’s called “There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight”.

 

There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight

So I opened up my Macbook to send an email of complaint.

 

She said

    Look. You need to get a sense of perspective.

    It’s petty, it’s sad, and you sound like a git.

    Plus, it’s a romantic disincentive

    So if you’re actively trying to repel me

    Congratulations. You achieved your objective.

    When you complain about living a consumerist life

    Your parsimony is an oral contraceptive.

    I can’t stand to live another minute of it

    And if I'm losing the will to live, feck this.

She left.

 

She also left the outside light on as she slammed the garden gate

So I opened up my Macbook to send her an email of complaint.

 

 

 

The main part of the poem featuring her dialogue is a ‘magic 9’ poem. A magic 9 poem has nine lines, any length and meter, as long as the rhyme scheme is ABACADABA - it took me a little while to realise because I’m slow on the uptake, but this is the word ABRACADABRA without the letter R.

 

This poem was inspired partly by true events (I really did have seven red pepper chicken meatballs in my packet of eight from M&S and I still feel sore about being robbed by them) but mostly by my realisation at the sheer number of words that rhyme with -ective. Yes, honestly. 

 

break upscomedycomiccrimeFunnyhumoroushumorous poetryhumorous verselight versemagic 9relationshipsRomancetrue crime

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