Ode to Vienna Sausages

I love Vienna sausages. While many refuse to partake of these delicate morsels of “mystery meat” I find them sublime. Eaten straight out of the can with a generous splash of Tabasco sauce or added to a hot cup of Lipton instant soup along with a few wild greens, they are a hiker’s fare to die for. I rarely go out in the woods without a can of these tucked into my food bag.

Apparently I am not alone in my appreciation for these little weenies as I recently came across a poem by an unknown author that I just had to share here.



"Ode to Vienna Sausages"

O, glorious bit of nourishment,
Thy taste is truly heaven sent.
Such pleasure thou expounds to me,
My precious tube of ecstasy!

Though many morsels touch my tongue,
Thine anthem ne'er shall be out sung.
Sweet Machiavellian delight
Pervades my throat with every bite.

There is no greater pleasure than
Eight sausages packed in a can.
The grandeur of thy sweet bouquet
Is faint to take one's breath away.

Thy juice and stunning succulence
Is said to conjure flatulence
And rumblings from the diaphragm
Unmatched, of course, except by Spam.

But, from this land where Mozart played
And Ludwig Van concertos made,
This land from where great music came
Is it not right you make the same?

Though other wieners may aspire
To be as plump as Oscar Meyer
Thy svelte, petite, and sleek design
Slide freely through these lips of mine.

At weddings, thou art ever picked,
With Swedish meatballs on a stick
To be the morsels of delight
On that most joyous of all nights.

My dearest treat, I bid thee well.
I love thee more than words can tell.
I take my leave....I must compose
My "Sonnet to the Oreo".