Read by Venus Vison, one night after a few too many alizarin smokes

Jackal pot pie

This knife: it was sharpened

The blade honed and ready

When a child’s plaintive voice asked

Can’t we just have spaghetti?

No!  Jackal pot pie!  No more and no less!

Our host, he was bellowing at me, honored guest.

I tried to appease and placate the old man

But jackal pot pie was his bellicose demand.

Yes, jackal pot pie, not dingo delight

No hyena stew, nor gnu steaks tonight

As if Anubis himself had decreed what we eat

‘twill be jackal pot pie: no mean culinary feat.

Well the onions and potatoes were diced by the pound

When fresh cuts of jackal were not to be found.

Oh don’t worry, I soothed, I’ll just throw in some fruit.

Don’t you know avocado is a perfect substitute?

Substitute for jackal in jackal pot pie?

Our poor distraught hostess, she did sob and cry.

“Just nip round to the butcher,” growled our host through his teeth

“You’ll find what you need on the shelf just beneath

The ostrich and buffalo, the ocelot and moose

To the left of the venison, just right of the goose.

Don’t com back without it: consider that a threat!”

He turned to his wife and said “Honey, don’t fret.

We’ll end up with jackal, the pie will be great.

This evening will turn out ok, just you wait.”

Yes, I left for the butcher, I bought all I could

I hurried back there to create what I should

The jackal looked fresh and delicious , it’s true

But my gut warned me: look out – my troubles aren’t through

Oh woe, what a tale of this jackal pot pie

A song of lament and a tear in my eye

As I confess the sad truth of what happened that day

When the moment of truth finally blew us away

Yes jackal pot pie is a taste dignified

Distinctive and subtle, perhaps less so if fried

Jackal pot pie we all so longed to savor

Never got made.  No tongue tasted that flavor.

The truth can be ugly but nonetheless true

And our hopes for pot pie: out the window they flew

When I realized with horror, yes I was aghast:

The expiration date on the pastry was indeed two weeks past.

No pastry, no pot pie, that’s all we could think

And to consider jackal stew made us want a stiff drink

Now I sit here in silence and wish I could lie

But I failed, yes I failed, to make jackal pot pie.