Fruit Cocktail Poem by Donal Mahoney

I met a man with many wives
when I was selling pots and pans
door-to-door out West.

He owned a ranch
and wore patched overalls
with red suspenders plus

a cowboy hat above
a bushy black mustache.
We got to talking

at the General Store
and I asked him why
one wife wasn't enough.

He said, 'You like fruit? '
'All but grapefruit.'
'Understood, ' the fellow said,

'but every now and then
I bet you'd like a peach
instead of a banana or

an apple instead of an orange.'
'Understood, ' I said.
'It's like pots and pans.

One pot's great for oatmeal
but you'll need a different one
for a fine ragout.'