Читать книгу Nearsighted - Richard Edwards - Страница 2

I like to scrape my fork and knife

Through all the delicacies of life.

For example, take the ruddy beet—

Not the favorite food of the man on the street.

Even fully cooked, it still looks raw

And tastes as nasty as a good big chaw

Of cigar leaf.

Yet, I forced myself to eat

Great gobs of bloody beets. “Real treat,”

I told myself (and gagged). But now,

I take the beet for what it is—not chow,

At least for me—just borscht, for a Muscovite,

That happens to sour my appetite.

I guess the beet explains a lot about

Anchovies, as well as sauerkraut.