Thursday, April 07, 2005


This being NaPoWriMo, here is the Poem of the Day, written to commemmorate the thirty-eighth birthday of Bro In-Law d’Elisson:

No, Thanks, I Just (Thirty) Eight

It takes a heap o’ livin’ to make a house a home,
It takes a heap o’ callin’ upon the telephone.
It takes a heap o’ groceries to cook a fancy dinner
But when Brother Aaron’s cookin’ it, it’s sure to be a winner.

Now, Aaron went to cookin’ school, when he became a man,
And learned the many secret ways to use a fryin’ pan.
There’s tricks to all them seasonin’s - at least, so I am told,
And if a feller know ’em, well, he might just make some gold.

A feller’s got to learn to make a creamy velouté,
And, Lord, it sure ain’t easy if ye burn yer consommé.
The stocks, the soups, the sauces - ye don’t dare call ’em gravy
And legumaceous purées of the beans that they call “navy.”

The many ways to cook a roast, or other joint of beef,
Are all essential knowledge, lest your cooking come to grief.
And your ragouts and casseroles won’t throw us for a loop,
Because they don’t contain a drop of Cream of Mushroom Soup.

Let’s not forget the pastries! All the puffy, fluffy treats,
We like to stuff our kishkes with once we’ve consumed our meats.
Yes, all this stuff is quite enough to grow a double chin,
For which we thank the Master of the Holy Rolling Pin.

So wear your toque with pride, my boy, and don your checkered pants -
And go into the kitchen, where you turn the meats and plants
Into a tasty repast, which we’ll all tell you is great,
And then we’ll drink a schnapps ’cause it’s your birthday - 38!

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