A Dish Best Served Cold Poem by Francie Lynch

While cruising Corona on the net,
I saw pangolins not eaten yet.
Many, you see, believe its scales,
Are cure-alls to cure whatever ails.
And its meat festoons the rich Asian table.
Who ate the pangolin from head to toe,
Is the one we know,
As Patient Zero.

China lauds its laws to say they save them,
The endangered pangolins in Asia;
Yet in Wuhan, locked live in cages,
In wet markets like our Dark Ages,
The scaly pangolin is sold.
But "Revenge, "
We know,
"Is a dish best served cold."