They made a new pasta
Oliver Norred, 5 May 2021
They made a new pasta.
O, how I long to kiss the Cascatelli
And let long-lost sauce find me so lost in it.
O, how I long to toothe the new pasta,
Not in doggish violence but in cattish horns.
O, how I should touch the new pasta,
Who, so coy, sits plump on her shelf,
Just past my grasp,
And whose tight curls should be around my chest,
In a hug.
O, the new pasta, the new maiden,
You, Cascatelli, it was always you.
Sweep me off my feet;