Hot dogs, tacos, ham on rye
are the ways that I get by.
I don’t like caviar on toast,
and what I really hate the most
are liver, tripe or heart or brains.
These are the things my taste disdains.
I cannot masticate and eat
These things that, think, digest or beat.
The height of what my mouth deplores,
they’re what my stomach most deplores.
And it has never been my habit
to eat lamb or veal or rabbit,
possibly because it gets
me thinking about former pets
and liaisons with baby creatures
that were very frequent features
in a childhood wherein we
sheltered a menagerie
of magpies, bunnies, kittens, rabbits
that fulfilled my parents’ habits
to collect those orphaned things
that often life presents and brings
to those who notice what is needed
by those abandoned or defeated..
Zippy, Fluffy, Tiger, Poo
were the names of just a few
babies that became our peers
within our formative years,
which is why I still dispute
eating things so young and cute.
But reasons that I do not eat
any fish or organ meat?
The answer is succinct and easy.
They just simply make me queazy!
True story? Yes, we really did have a baby raccoon named Zippy and all of these other orphaned animals brought home from the ranch by my father and raised like her own kids by my mother.
And yes, this poem rambles a bit, but for Pete’s sake, look at the prompt words!! Not complaining, just explaining….And that is Zippy up there as an illustration not of a possible cuisine choice, but he was one of our orphaned animal adoptees.