Grandma's Recipe Poem by Ima Ryma

When I was old enough to go,
I went to Grandma's house alone.
She said that she would feed me so,
I needed more flesh on my bone.
She fed me junk food by the pile,
All kinds of real fattening stuff.
A week went by and she did smile,
And said that I was fed enough.
She led me to the oven where
She cackled, causing me some doubt.
I felt the heat coming from there.
I swung a pot and knocked her out.

Fried, baked or broiled - I don't care which,
But Grandma would be one burned witch.