I Am the Very Model of a Modern Vegan Veteran . . .


(Inspired by an article by Mary MacVean)

I am very vegan; I spurn fillet mignon.

I will not touch a head cheese (also known as brawn).

No chicken, tripe or tuna will ever pass my lips.

I nourish soul and body with bags of tater chips.


Doritos are my mainstay, washed down with Diet Coke.

Fry sauce over ramen noodles – what a master stroke!

Funyuns, Bugles, pretzels; they are my stock-in-trade.

And I get my vitamins from quarts of grape Kool-Aid.


I love to munch on Corn Nuts, although they crack my teeth;

And when it comes to minerals I eat the bars called Heath.

Yes, I am very vegan, with toasted melba rounds.

(I only wish I didn’t have to weigh four-hundred pounds!)



Hooray for William Howard Taft!

William Howard Taft
William Howard Taft

(Inspired by an article by Joe Carlson.)

I’d like to say, right here and now, that I am very proud

To be among those people who are flesh & blood-endowed.

Weight loss gimmicks like implants or tricky belly bands,

Or cockamamie diets are unreasoning demands!


Fat men are not monsters, nor yet objects of great pity –

Look at Fatty Arbuckle; both nimble and quite witty!

William Howard Taft is thought a goodly President,

And he left his mark on ev’ry chair he ever bent!


And scholars sure will tell you that to folk in the Far East

A corpulent palooka is good luck at any feast.

So take your implants, pills and plans and dump them in the sea.

I’m going to continue to sop up Life’s rich gravy!


For more information on the author, please click here.

The Minnesota Meat Raffle.



(Inspired by an article by John M. Glionna.)


Before the Ice Age swallowed up the Minnesota ground,

Cavemen hunted dinosaurs, which ambled all around.

The steaks and chops and sausages that came from such a beast

Provided all those gluttons with a never-ending feast.


But then the frost heaved up the earth and snow fell never-ending,

And Minnesota cavemen saw that famine was impending.

Now they gathered roots and nuts and bark from naked trees,

And danced around a fire so they wouldn’t slowly freeze.


Eventually the ice reversed and lo, the land revived;

The cavemen hunted ev’rything, no longer meat-deprived.

And to this day when winter takes the state in its fell grip,

Minnesotans raffle meat to recall that great hardship!


Axel Eats Locally.


Helga canned da bullheads dat I caught on da Zumbrota,

And of sauerkraut ve haf got our yeerly quota.

I made a gallon uf gude vine dat comes from dandelions

I picked myself (vhile dreaming of some cute Havaiins!)


Ve pickled beets and carrots, and ve made some yolly yerky

From da meat dat vas leftover from Tanksgiving turkey.

Da squash is in da basement, wid a heap uf yellow Swedes;

By golly, ve haf plenty now fer all our vinter needs!


I vish dere vas some vay to can or store down in da cellar

Da summer heat ve had last year – I’d be a happy feller.

I dew not care so much for all dis local stuff we eat

If my teeth are chattering and I can’t feel my feet!

I Will Not Drink a Cup of Broth.


I will not drink a cup of broth; I don’t care what you say

About its healthful properties or fabulous bouquet.

Take your bones and marrow and your filtered water too

And stick ‘em in a cauldron to produce some Elmer’s Glue.


I want a glass of lemonade or soda with a twist;

Hot choc’late is the beverage to drink when playing whist.

For those who must have alcohol I will not nix a snort;

And when it comes to apple juice, why, I could drink a quart.


But broth is not a potable I care to sip or guzzle,

And why it now becomes a fad is certainly a puzzle.

Give it to the invalid or infant near starvation;

Otherwise it’s useless as a means of true hydration.

Matzo and Leverpostei.


Growing up benighted in a Norskie neighborhood,

I never knew that matzo tasted plain but very good.

We didn’t have a neighbor with mezuzot on their doors;

No one wore a yarmulke or shopped at kosher stores.


But when I left my little hytte, upon the world to snoop,

I discovered wonders such as matzo balls in soup.

Gefilte fish I sampled and the latke I adored,

And so I learned that noshing is its tasty own reward.


I still am eating matzo; I enjoy it with sardines,

Or spread some leverpostei on it with fresh salad greens.

I may get indigestion, but you cannot indict me

For prejudice when I am on a gourmandizing spree.

A Financial Guide to Investing in Dairy.


Forget about your stocks and bonds and others of that ilk;

What you want to buy up now is plenty of cow’s milk.

I’ve been reading in the papers that the price of dairy

On the Chinese mainland is now making Wall Street merry.


Of course the folks who milk the cows will see such little gravy

That their sons and daughters will leave home to join the navy.

But the brokers and investors, who have such milk-white hands

From never doing labor will build houses in posh Cannes.


What with tariffs and the glut of whey upon the market,

I advise you raise great sums and in milk futures park it.

You will never find a better way to fend off rank inflation

Than piling up a million cans of impregnable Carnation!