I Need Your Recipe

Dear Ethel Meta, I once had a copy of your book The Poetry of Recipe but lost it when Hurricane Katrina wiped away my family and all my life's possessions. You had the most elegant recipe for Potato Salad I have ever tasted. I would kill for that potato salad, but unfortunately I don't own a weapon. Can you please reprint that world famous recipe? Hankerin' in Houston


My Poor Dimwitted Hankerin', That book was a book of poems and not actual recipes. I can't believe you could be so stupid as to serve anything in that book to anyone. I hope they weren't your friends, If they were they probably have deserted you by now. It was only meant to be a trashy attempt at art. I'll reprint the POEM here, but do not try to make this as a side dish.
Spud Salad Sunday
I grow my own potatoes
I grow them all by hand
I pick the ripest swelling roots
I peel them all by hand
I make my own undressing
With vinegar and eggs
I add a little sugar
Until the old man begs
And just as he's about to launch
Into a last tirade
I capture hell man's essence
And call it mayonnaise

Hankerin': Pay attention you misfitting boob. You are one sick cookie and I hope you never invite me to one of your dinner parties. Now get the hell off the internet and get yourself into some family therapy! Do it now before you come down with the herpes. Ethel Meta