POETRY: {Pass the Ketchup}? A {Hot Dog} Lover’s Nightmare

“Pass the ketchup,” she said softly

And my heart sank to my shoes.

For our once budding romance

This was quite the breaking news.

She’s a ketchup gal—I get it

On her burgers, eggs, and fries,

But when she squeezes it on hot dogs,

My affection for her dies.

I relished when she relished

Her dog with pickled dill

But then my dream girl took my heart

And placed it on the grill.

Such wit and charm and lovely looks

All found in one lady!

But that condiment upon her dog

Reveals her judgment’s shady.

She loves ketchup on a hot dog?

The woman has poor taste.

For when you could have mustard

Who would choose red gloppy paste?

‘Tis such a shame to see it.

I thought we had something magic!

Our first date was a fairytale

The ending, though, is tragic.

I simply won’t accept it.

This error just won’t do.

A man must have his standards

And she’s not worth the barbecue.

I would have gotten on one knee

For this year’s Valentine’s

But now, I fear my broken heart

Bleeds redder than her Heinz.