On St. Patrick’s Day I posted a poem by my grandfather, TW Carpenter. He was, according to the stories, always writing poetry. He worked in a factory for much of his life, and, being the sort of man he was, he was always playing tricks on his coworkers. As the legend has it, there was a man who came in day in and day out with a big ol’ ham sandwich for lunch. He did this so consistently that my grandfather wrote a little poem about it:
Blessings on thee, little man,
With thy belly full of ham,
Mama loves you, sweetie pie-
Just for you did piggie die.
I hope you think of that the next time you eat a ham sandwich.