The tiny brown globes rested in a tiny mountain pile on top of steaming rice, almost appearing if they were steaming themselves. I leaned over and the pungent smell of ripe old age cheese seized my senses. Overwhelmed, I stumbled backwards, fingers grappling on the table to regain balance. I peered cautiously at the innocent ceramic bowl before me and then at the smiling, encouraging face of my host mother.
So this is natto, I thought to myself. I stirred the sticky mounds. The pile mushed and gossamer strings stretched, sticky on the chopsticks.
Looks and smells like a pile of steaming crap. Eww.
– circa. 2001-2002
Do you like natto on rice the most?
I do not like them, mom-the-host
I do not like natto on rice the most.
Would you like them here or there?
I would not like them here or there.
I would not like them anywhere.
I do not like natto on rice the most.
I loathe natto on rice the most.
Would you share them with a lark?
Would you like them with a Marc?
I would share them with a lark.
Nor will I like them with a Marc.
He hates them, mom-the-host
Like me, he hates natto on rice the most.
Not with a lark.
Not with a Marc.
I would not eat them here or there.
I would not eat them anywhere.
I do not like natto on rice the most.
I loathe natto on rice the most.
at 9:03 am
Dr. Suess improves ANYTHING.
at 9:04 am
I love putting my experiences as parodies of Dr. Seuss. His rhymes and his books are timeless.
at 11:54 am
Not even Dr. Seuss can make natto good. I sat with an older Japanese lady on the plane, and we spoke about my trip. She thought is was great that I tried natto, and surprised that I liked every other kind of food that I tried.
at 7:46 am
Dr. Seuss can’t make Natto good, but he CAN improve it. Your values of “improve” may vary.
at 9:54 am
In you poem, you write that you WOULD share them with a lark, but not with a Marc.
Marc’s lackin’ while larks be mackin’ on his woman.