Dinner Menu Poem by O Anna Niemus

Dinner Menu



What's on the menu?

Which bird cadaver?
Which mammal corpse?
Which fish's rotting remains?
Putrefactive pieces of which murdered pig?
Decaying diseased flesh from which dead duck?


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George Bernard Shaw asked the man next to him at the table
why he had become a vegetarian. Meat inspector, the man replied.

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