A Working Lunch Poem by Dr Ronnie Bai

A Working Lunch

Seated are the diners, and the party has begun
The pre-ordered dishes are being brought on
By this year's hot master chef number one
For the last year's has been tried cold and gone.

Sharks fin soup is at the bottom of the manu
Sea cucumbers appeal to only a very few
King crabs and lobsters are but too cheap
But the new chef worries not for his keep.

Bloody veal from meadowy Mastsusaka
Stretching geoducks from freezing Canada
Tank clinging white paua from sandy Australia
Giant yellow fin tuna from stormy Nova Scotia.

The waitress gets a smack for bringing Maotai
For booze breath may irk the Big Boss's eye
His PA asks for one Louis XIII thirty-year-gold
And with meal a case of mellow Lafite olde.

A working lunch for th' town's mayor for th' day
The last diner called in not to eat but to pay
Is one realty developer. So glad is he
To un-earn his ten workers' annual salary.