Whet My Appetite

I will not eat this dreadful gum-like paste
Made with some awful, nasty bits of ear
And pharynx, with a too-substantial smear
Of bladder tissues. Nothing goes to waste,
But it’s the worst dish I have ever faced.
The chef prepared this with a troubling leer,
And put it on the table with a sneer
That made me think of fruitcake with no taste.

A serving of black pudding, far too red,
Followed by a blancmange strangely not white
Made this dog’s breakfast a disgraceful sight
And made me want to lie down on my bed
Holding a dark, wet compress to my head.
It didn’t even whet my appetite.