By Stephani Cook
The dinner party fast began,
I walked in with wine in hand.
The speckled blowfish showed me in
With his tiny webbed fin.
A pair of perky little slugs
Sipped their wine in baby chugs;
Next the squirrel did arrive,
A happy hamster by his side,
And in their meager handmade tote
A freshly foraged acorn loaf!
The possum scampered in behind
With a pungent old cheese rind.
The blowfish, with a little wave,
Stopped the greetings gracefully
And welcomed us around the table,
“Raise your glasses if you’re able!”
He toasted to continued health,
Endless peace and some small wealth;
The wine passed through his gills, what’s more
It wound up spilling on the floor.
The blowfish cared not in the least,
We started on our oddball feast.
The slugs had brought an algae mess
Steamed and plated nice & neat
But smelling like a pair of feet;
The squirrel passed round cockroach fritters
Excellent crunch, but very bitter;
The hamster declared pointedly,
“You ought to try the algae greens.”
The possum scoffed at such advice
He helped himself to curried mice,
“Vegetables don’t interest me,
But smaller rodents tend to please.”
The possum’s lips curled at the corners,
His smile made the table nervous.
The blowfish, seeing a grisly end,
Ushered us toward dessert instead.
Lying neatly in a bowl
Were scores of fat profiteroles,
The one dish we could all agree
Far exceeded both vegetables and rodents.
Stephani Cook is a second-year FPAN student. She enjoys bikes rides and breastfeeding and is excited to be writing a monthly poetry column for The Friedman Sprout.