Chowhound's Lament Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

Like petals on a yellow flower
all sticky and sweet for the bee
though each lasts its brief hour
some essence is the key
to both love and a simmering stew
sitting on a range in the messhall
that serves victuals to many or few
as they clamor and loudly bawl-

'Where in hell is that damn cook
and his minions from bloody hell
who ladle spoonfuls by the book
to us rankers so bleeding swell
whose souls are damned to burn
in everlasting pain in our turn! '