Le Grand Gourmand Gargantua

Gargantua ate all of the first course
except for the feathers and beaks.
When the brasserie brought out a mouse mousse
he got it all down but the squeaks.
The thrushes were rushed so he skipped them,
Gargantua wolfing instead
a spitted Dalmatian he’d spotted
on the buffet. He asked for its head.
‘If I can’t,’ said Gargantua belching,
‘look at what I eat square in the eye,
I’ll give up my Ogre A rating
and subsist on alfalfa curd pie.’

Whoops Tour of Mediterranean

When the hors d’oeuvre octopus slid down my throat
it marked the way the better to retrace
its path, when later, putting out the boat,
I tamped it down with champagne to erase
both’s bubbles. Now the creature’s arms refloat.
They, eight and eaten, pulse and flex in place
to wait the wine tide’s ebbing to reblossom.
I should have stayed at home and stuck to ’possum.