Oleomargarine - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Napoleon did start the fad
it was because he never had
enough to spend for soldier food
to keep them in the proper mood.
He asked his chemists to invent
an out for his predicament.
The French eat butter and thick cream
drink wine, although this fact may seem
to dummies that are reading this
the antidote to human bliss.
So, warriors who must risk their lives
while worrying about young wives
they want to eat the real thing
the same as any Gallic king.
The chemists soon produced some gunk
which tasted bad, it also stunk
they called it oleomargarine
and served it in a small terrine.
Of course they had deodorised
and filtered and then sanitised
had added flavouring and dye
it looked delicious to the eye.
The cost was 10 percent of butter
one did not need a cookie-cutter
to get it and it simply spread
plus no one suffered or dropped dead.
And since that time the world imbibed
as if they had been somehow bribed
a poison full of nasty fats
which would not interest the cats.
It causes lots of hypertension
but I refrain from further mention
of other illnesses and death
I would be wasting precious breath.
Mankind is listening to devils
who wait for you on many levels
they have, the same as we, two paws
though theirs have nasty-looking claws.
They take the money from your pockets
and steal your health, then wear your lockets.
Please stop and think about the past
and how a healthy life can last.
It isn't really very hard
to grab the butter and the lard
eat eggs each day and heavy cream
that's how you'll realise your dream.
And yes do take a healthy shot
of life-prolonging coconut.
Comments about Oleomargarine by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda