Noodles and Expiry Dates

Poetry by | February 3, 2008

I wish love were just like instant noodles –
that it came with its flavor written on its pack—
   sweet or spicy,
   nothing too strange for the tongue;
that it came with instructions:
Cook in briskly boiling water for three minutes.
Mix special seasoning of secrets and soy sauce into a paste.
Drain noodles of unnecessary water. Mix well with the prepared paste.
That it could be consumed,
   whether a little half- or over- cooked,
‘til hunger is no more;
that it would warn
   every starving boy and girl
   when it will expire.

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