An ode to pastry Chefs

Lance Corporal Lent, Lance Corporal Lent

His custom made uniform is cut from a tent.

He’s a pastry chef of tank sized girth

He’s as wide as tall and full of mirth.

Waddle here and waddle there

To keep his thighs from chafe and view 

He’s got long legged carbon fiber under wear

Oh yes, Corporal Lent, our Corporal Lent

A pastry chef of great renown.

Self critical of his art only lets the cream depart.

All the failures he gobbles down,

Wouldn’t serve them to a clown.

Then we have di-rect boss, A?

A Sergeant-major Glut Ton-A

Who was trained in French Canadian way.

He would not serve what he would not eat,

“better between the toes of my feet,

Or for the mice and rats to eat.

Keep your honor truly 

Poor food shown is only 

A picture of your mistakes. 

“Best to eat the evidence away.”

That’s what Sergeant-major

 Glut Ton-A would say.

The two of them would work their magic

In the Pentagon and for Congress.

Trouble was no one could pass

After one serving of their best

Any type of physical fitness tests. 

GORE MAY KOOK KING

Trophy kitchens they build a lot

Gourmet cooking , I think not.

The data’s in the data’s hot

Shining pans gleaming pots,

Nice to see but doo not touch

Like towels in powder rooms

They’re there for guests     admire  much.

Trophy kitchens gleaming fair.

You bagged it  good,  so fair and square.

Says you’ve arrived,         not saying where.

Cook for dinner , all these guests?

Surely sir ,  you must jest?

Reservations made      let’s out to eat.

It’s Out To Dinner.   

It’s meat and greet.

That's What Food Eats

“Veggie, vegan, it’s all in a plan!”
On a soap box his words were flame.

I ignored his diatribe, and
to the book on good health I subscribed.
“You’ll eat better and better my good man.
Grains, legumes, tubers, non-gluten
(gluten grain, in the stomach a possible pain)
but over all, it’s good for you.
By-the-way don’t forget the goldn rule:
don’t just gulp and swallow,
you must tho-roughly chew chew.

“That’s what food eats!” again he exclaimed.
(Hair pulling out, red face, oh such pain)
“Veggies, it’s what cows and pigs and horses consume.
It’s the alien takeover plan, we’re cattle I know it’s true.
Don’t you see it old man, right in front of you?”

I thought him nuts, as I munched a few
Said I to him, “It’s a better way to eat
A better way to live, animals, don’t consume
love the animals don’t eat them.”

“No doubt, a slogan propagated
we know by what and whom,
alien beings just fooling you.”
Exasperated he shook his head,
“the truth, to you, and obvious no show.”

“How do you think we got here? He continued his rant.
We ate meat, our brains grew, we became bigger than ants.
What we are, what should be
and not the losers in the race.
In the mirror look, your brain, your face.

I to him, in firm defense I stood proud and free
“You blaspheme my good man. The gods decree
that we all be meat free.
It is written in the book of health
On a show of okra and others like herself.
It’s a decree, a decree say I to thee.
Be gone you fool let me eat
Veggies and nuts and all that stuff.
Let me be free.
But meat to eat?
No, no, certainly Not me.”

Said he, “You’re a fool, a tool,
All you vegan veggie toufu eaten, food for fooo...”

Lightening from the gods above
a crispy critter, burnt, eyes all agog.
A smile crossed my face, correct
The gods approve my aprobate, I still stand erect.
And from the sky they struck him dead, with
The green blue red sizzle, then
to my salad I looked and thought,
wouldn’t it just be funny, looking
looking at the smoldering simmering pit
where he once stood, now cooked
an idiot
claiming on his falsehood hooked
eating animals for food.
What a fool.
But yes, cooked, he did smell good.

THOUGHT for FOOD

Writing Swiss cheese and Genoa salami,

I eat poetry for nourishment.

Thinking cereal, yogurt and berries,

I eat words for dinner.

Observing OJ and coffee,

I drink thoughts as a morning start-up.

Quarks and communication, yumm.