Soup should be heralded with a mellow horn, <br />Blowing clear notes of gold against the stars; <br />Strange entrees with a jangle of glass bars <br />Fantastically alive with subtle scorn; <br />Fish, by a plopping, gurgling rush of waters, <br />Clear, vibrant waters, beautifully austere; <br />Roast, with a thunder of drums to stun the ear, <br />A screaming fife, a voice from ancient slaughters! <br /> <br />Over the salad let the woodwinds moan; <br />Then the green silence of many watercresses; <br />Dessert, a balalaika, strummed alone; <br />Coffee, a slow, low singing no passion stresses; <br />Such are my thoughts as -- clang! crash! bang! -- I brood <br />And gorge the sticky mess these fools call food!<br /><br />Stephen Vincent Benet<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dinner-in-a-quick-lunch-room/
