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Random Thu Oct 25 2007
I recently received a delivery menu for the Byron's hot dog stand near my office. Fairly standard, run-of-the-mill menu, really, until I flipped it to the back. There, in small type so it'd fit on the half-page, was a poem. An ode to "The Friendly Frankfurter."
The gentle frank all red and white, I love it with all my soul.
It gives me meat with all its might to eat upon a roll.
It's tasty, toasted - It's racy, roasted - It's full of iron and phosphorus.
It's the favorite ration of all our nation.
And mustard is the sauce for us.
The frank's the friend of every man, proud,
It's curve is pure American, and full of eating beauty!
Thanks, thanks for excellent franks.
That are practically always digestible.
The dickens with chickens or steaks on planks.
The frankfurter's my comestible!
This masterpiece was unsigned, which is a shame, for it is a poem for the ages. Almost makes me hungry for a hot dog.