Ode to Awful Food.

Now Molly made her living in dear old Dublin town
Singing out her seafood wares, the kind you have to down.
Cockles and Mussels that slither down your throat
Lie heavy on your stomach and give intestinal bloat.

In every tiny fishing village upon the harbour side,
All kinds of fishy delicacies are sold straight from the tide.
I'm not averse to prawns or a tender bit of crab
But jellied ells and octopus just make me want to gag.

A gander in a butcher's shop (not goose, I mean a glance),
Display all kinds of meaty treats but not those things from France.
I don't care what they taste like; frog's legs are made to hop
Not nestle there with cuts of meats laid out inside the shop.

And while I'm on the subject, I have another gripe,
That pinkish blob that is so vile, you've got it, horrid tripe.
There are certain kinds of offal I am quite prepared to eat,
But surely brains and trotters cannot be classed as meat?

A wander round the market is a pleasure trip for me,
As I go from each greengrocers in search of greenery.
I love to choose exotic fruit and love all kinds of veg,
But one particular item just sets my teeth on edge.

I've tried it buttered; frozen, canned it always is the same,
However way I eat sweet corn it goes out as in it came.
I thought so hard for No ten, I'm easy for to please,
There's one thing absent from my plate and that is mushy peas.

I hope you have been entertained and forgive the verse or two,
I know that some can be squeamish when it comes to number 2.
So adieu my friends until the time the muse strikes once again,
And as for all those awful puns, next time I will restrain!

©Lisa Fuller 2005.

Written as an excerise for putting your ten most hated foods in verse.

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