I may be, and I hope I am, mistaken,
but I find my confidence a little shaken;
if only conmen say they don't speak lies,
am I a grifter in zbaby's eyes?
If so, I must confess it's quite perturbing —
as if I'm some rude beast that needs harsh curbing.
In truth, I'm very noble (as bears go);
believe or not — your choice — but it is so.

(r.)

Don't be rude!
The subject was food.
Now let's get back
on track...


*


HEALTH FOOD

My mother likes to talk a lot
... about a “healthful diet.”
“Dip vegetables in chocolate!”
... I told her. “Why not try it!”

She said, “Why that’s a fine idea!
... A perfect compromise!
I think the world may never see a
... young man quite so wise

as you, my son, who thought of it,
... a way to blend the sweet
appealing taste of chocolate
... with what a boy should eat!”

And so she took a chocolate bar
... and melted it till she
could dip a bunch of green beans far
... into a chocolate sea,

and then she let them cool a while
... so they would not be soft.
She watched me eat, but did not smile
... as I licked the chocolate off!




[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited June 04, 2004).]

Roger, you bravo at Kate's sterling ode,
but I smell a rat, and it's shoddy.
You claim to be awed by her body of work,
but I think you're after her body.

I think its disgraceful, besides, she's a Mod.
And don't start with half-truths and fibs
So back off, you hound, or I'll get you, by God -
You know fully well, I've got dibs!

- Bugsy

Bugsy, I'm a married man, but if we should compete
for Kate's affections I believe you'd go down in defeat,
for any woman would regard your chosen name as frightening
if she contemplated why you've named yourself for lightning.

Food and sex are intertwined.
Seduction is the reason
we cook, and those who’ve wined and dined
are often rather brazen.
Have a madeira my dear’s a line
that works for wicked uncles
who’ve been around for quite some time
and studied all the wrinkles.
Steak tartare will take you far
if vigor’s your intention
and I’ve been told that oysters are
part of the same convention.
A ripe peach in a brandy glass
is more refined and subtle
when aiming for a higher class
you won’t meet a rebuttal.

Janet,

Sometimes the reverse is true.
...I hear that Julia Child
when between the sheets did not
...drive the young men wild,

but they would show up just the same
...and gamely thrust within her
knowing the reward would be
...a splendid, tasty dinner.


[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited June 05, 2004).]

(Not to change the subject, but)

I'm in the Mood for Truth, Simply Because You're Bleary


The Idiot, a moral sleuth
suffering his lot,
is damned by his unvarnished truth
and crossed by counterplot.

Dostoevsky’s Idiot
is not about payola;
it was mostly grief he got,
much like Savanarola.

Your aim to mock, or get a rise
from me will fail you, Slater.
I'm sure that Kate will recognize
a would-be master baiter.

- Bugsy


[This message has been edited by Lightning Bug (edited June 05, 2004).]

(insert utterly non-poetic groan at bugsy's pun)

Roger, that rings true to me,
for many's the hungry wooer;
and as for Julia's strategy,
I say more power to 'er.

Food and sex are intertwined,
but don't take things too far;
you wouldn't want your bedsheets lined
with cheese and caviar.