Meditations on a Quorn™ Sausage

 

Oh, most worthy breakfast constituent,

but hardly the thing to make

a man spring from his pit

with preprandial excitement.

 

In days of old

sailors bold

plotted their tortuous course

through squall and fog,

emboldened by the thought

of some sweet meat analogue.

 

I can no longer bring home the bacon

and have forsworn chicken and liver.

Now, I'm eating these things,

like fingers from a body

that's spent ten days in the river:

pale, bloodless cylinders.

I taste bland succulence

with a clear conscience.

 

 

 

Now here are a few words from that popular running fellow Mohamed "Mo" Farah:

 

practice ~ protein

prairie ~ princess

pretty ~ praline

prolapsed ~ Pruneface

 

prancing ~ pronghorn

prodding ~ prepuce

prowling ~ proctor

propels ~ propane

 

pre-paid ~ prophet

primal ~ profuse

pre-used ~ protest

prattling ~ prolix

 

 

Kel Knight brandishes a non-non-meat cylinder

 

 

 

Dear Mr (?Quentin) Quorn,

It's my grievance/thy malfeasance

that your snags have got so tiny.

I'm changing my allegiance

to the late Linda McCartney...

 

B.R. 31/08/2014