For I'll tiramisu you with flagons of bitters
And stuff your turkey breast with cod liver oil.
Paella Paella Paella!!!
Cleave me with pinches of thyme to your taste and
Boyardee I'll sauté your organic monkey brains
With gourds of mincemeat and spatulas of wet cornucopias.
I have friends in the Gazpacho, you unripened piece
Of kumquat rind.
Preheat this you drive-thru gourmand
And quiche my asparagus with your chickpea melon balls.
Mah fondue!
Shut your clam you bouillabaisse fruitcake.
Oyster your gravy with sardine scraps and
Punch your Hawaiian and bake your Alaska 'til your
Eskimo Pies are burnt to Krispy Kreme of Mushroom Fruit Loops.
You couldn't shuck corn in Covington without Ms. Crocker
Kneading your Swedish meatballs, you side order chopstick man.
You and your sushi maitre d' can pierogi du jour all you want.
A la mode, a la carte, al fresco your sticky buns with
Tartar sauce that's been left to simmer on the beach in Morocco.
Now, omelet you stew in bacon grease 'til you scream
Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima and Colonel Sanders
To take-out customers who filch all your toothpicks.
I'm smörgåsbord with your crème brulee threats and
Your coq au vin ca ca.
Your chop suey is mere fricassee to me.
You are the bratwurst
Greasy spoon line cook in Hell's Kitchen.
I'll wok your cherry cheesecake crepe Suzette 'round the chopping block
And make fermented guacamole out of her Italian wedding soup dressing.
Enchilada cauliflower rutabaga beet.
I sirloin your butt steak and tapas your head of lettuce
With my marinated leeks.
Tofu you and your grouper French fried tomato cans.
Go home and zap your TV dinner you culinary quack.
The Beach Boys-Gettin' Hungry
No comments:
Post a Comment