Monday, April 18, 2011

sauce

poem about condimental preferences from about 6 years ago (when poems rhymed) 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

i maintain it's insane, 
if the meal isn't plain, 
to prostrate to a state. 
homogenise your plate. 
'cause i wont love the neighbour 
who'd savour the flavour 
of table sauce bought 
by the sort who support 
mayonnaise as a glaze, 
(this i can't give praise). 
and i frown on those 
who might drown with brown 
a genteel meal, 
or a prime cut of veal. 
with tomato, it's hard to, 
escape ostinato. 
a jar of tartar, 
i see off with "ta-ta" too. 
now let this dirge 
mourn the tastes that have merged, 
and i urge, stop the splurge; 
stop your bottle's surge. 
it's a sin to begin! 
wipe the muck from your chin! 
...this dish is delic' 
without any false swish!

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