Farewell to bacon and to hash
The eggs stand sore alone
The morning after Mardi Gras
We abstain to atone.
The plates that once were weighted down
With meats both fat and lean
Hold meager meals of grains and greens
And nothing in between.
These 40 days of Lent beget
A meat-deprived malaise
And nightmare dreams of tables set
With endless PBJs.
While, destitute of cold cuts, moms
O’er vegan cookbooks hunch.
They shield their ears in anguish
To the dread cry, “What’s for lunch?”
As we who are enslàved by
The dread god of the belly,
Fight valiantly to quell the urge
To stock up at the deli.
Copyright 2011 Celeste Behe