Fifi On The Half Shell...

Reality shows are getting in one’s face, literally.
I don’t care how much money‘s at stake,
there’s no way that I’d purposely eat anything
with crawly legs, a hard shell--or anything soft
and spongy.
No way.

When I was a teen, a neighbor gave me a box
of chocolates. I popped one in my mouth.
It tasted bitter and crunchy.
I felt things on my tongue.
Mom had taken a bite, too.
Janet, our neighbor, was laughing.
I asked her what it was we were chewing.
Chocolate covered ants…

At a cousin’s wedding, my aunt offered me
an appetizer. It was delicious.
I’d eaten my first snail--and my last.

We lived in the Bay Area with a mixed cultural
population. The media often reported instances
of missing pets, apartment fires and
hospitalizations. One Vietnamese family was
found unconscious attempting to barbecue a
missing dog in their apartment.

Two cable TV shows showcase a male host
who travels the far reaches of the world,
sampling many of the native foods.
He has no qualms about partaking
of an animal‘s testicles, or whatever is
offered to him.
He looks so enthused about the dish, too.
There’s something revolting about eating a still
quivering heart, or sauteed grubs.

I’m sorry, but I walk upright…
I won’t eat anything as long as the
eyeballs are still glaring at me.

Anyone missing a pet…?