'Food,' a poem

FOOD
It is always there. Man's real best friend
It never bites back;
it is already dead.
It never tell us we are lousy lovers
or asks us for an interview.
It simply begs,Take me;
Mush me all up, it says;
Whatever is you is pure.

~~John Updike

FOOD
It is always there. Man's real best friend
It never bites back;
it is already dead.
It never tell us we are lousy lovers
or asks us for an interview.
It simply begs,Take me;
Mush me all up, it says;
Whatever is you is pure.

~~John Updike