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S is for Sausage

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S is for Sausage

The rich aroma leads you there
to the hearty wooden stand,
at the faire.
There's a crier, throwing up his hand,
"Sausages! Sausages!"
I can see it now when I close my eyes
the glistening skin still popping from oil,
the link being cut with a cook's knives,
to shove it in the oven wrapped in foil;
to warm it up
and make it BURST!
And here is my cup,
to satisfy my thirst
with iced tea
and a lemon too,
the sausage handed to me
is flecked with greasy dew.
But, alas, it is a wasteful feat,
for I'm a sausage lover who doesn't eat meat.





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