A short poem, bemoaning the fact that some of the tastiest foods always seem to be the worst for you…
Nothing beats Cumberland Sausage, Steak’n’ale Pie;
Too hard to resist, however I try.
Cartilage, gristle, over-cooked, dry?
Doesn’t matter to me: carnivore’s heaven, *sigh*.
They say you mustn’t eat this, but why?
Cholesterol, coagulating in arteries to lie.
The mortar, between the potato bricks that you fry;
Thickening, and growing fatty walls ‘til you die.
Food poetry by T. James, October, 2011.
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