Our special today is the ostrich mornay
on a bed of wild Spanish weeds,
drizzled with slivers of slow-roasted livers
and garnished with shaved parsley seeds.
Served on the side is an elephant hide
in a parcel of puffed pastry wings,
sprinkled with dew from the mists of Peru
and finished with seared apron strings.
What’s that you say? You don’t like mornay?
And you’ll pass on the shaved parsley seeds?
Can it be true that you’re not keen on dew?
And you’ve never thought fondly weeds?
Do we have WHAT? No, I’m sure we do not
Have a single sausage or chip.
But I suppose we could grill a beef tube from Brazil
served with French strings and ocean-salt dip.
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #45