Vegetopia, or fighting words from a lentil lover

By now, after surviving all the years

From Beanfeast to Quorn,

I’ve swallowed most of the comments

From those guzzling

Dead Stuff in a Bucket/Bun/ Pastry:

‘Eating disorder’, ‘Puritan’,

‘I used to be one once, but I missed

Bacon sarnies’,

‘Well, I only eat fish and chicken’,

‘Carrots have feelings too’,

(Deserve no response).

‘But how do you manage abroad?’

(Sophistication, elegance,

And postcards of a goose

With a funnel rammed down its gullet).

‘It’s just a fad for middle class townies’

(Like women’s rights and abolishing slavery)

‘And your kids won’t grow strong

Without red meat’

(Like horse and bulls don’t).

They’re served up again, hardly reheated,

And I leave them on the plate.

I know they won’t keep

When my sturdy boy shows me

The plastic tin of sardines

From his toy shop,

Points at the picture

And says it’s somewhere for

Little fish to be safe.

May future archaeologists

Finding it in a historic landfill

Think the same.