On Monday, January 4, 2016 at 3:32:37 PM UTC-6, wrote:
> Enjoy!
>
> (If you don't know his poems, he was always funny.)
>
> http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-clean-plater/
>
> "Some singers sing of ladies' eyes,
> And some of ladies lips,
> Refined ones praise their ladylike ways,
> And course ones hymn their hips.
> The Oxford Book of English Verse
> Is lush with lyrics tender;
> A poet, I guess, is more or less
> Preoccupied with gender.
> Yet I, though custom call me crude,
> Prefer to sing in praise of food.
> Food,
> Yes, food,
> Just any old kind of food.
> Pheasant is pleasant, of course,
> And terrapin, too, is tasty,
> Lobster I freely endorse,
> In pate or patty or pasty.
> But there's nothing the matter with butter,
> And nothing the matter with jam,
> And the warmest greetings I utter
> To the ham and the yam and the clam.
> For they're food,
> All food,
> And I think very fondly of food.
> Through I'm broody at times
> When bothered by rhymes,
> I brood
> On food.
> Some painters paint the sapphire sea,
> And some the gathering storm.
> Others portray young lambs at play,
> But most, the female form.
> 'Twas trite in that primeval dawn
> When painting got its start,
> That a lady with her garments on
> Is Life, but is she Art?
> By undraped nymphs
> I am not wooed;
> I'd rather painters painted food.
> Food,
> Just food,
> Just any old kind of food.
> Go purloin a sirloin, my pet,
> If you'd win a devotion incredible;
> And asparagus tips vinaigrette,
> Or anything else that is edible.
> Bring salad or sausage or scrapple,
> A berry or even a beet.
> Bring an oyster, an egg, or an apple,
> As long as it's something to eat.
> If it's food,
> It's food;
> Never mind what kind of food.
> When I ponder my mind
> I consistently find
> It is glued
> On food."

Another favorite of his:
Who wants my jellyfish?
I'm not sellyfish!