I met a man who favored buttered beans
and liked them more than meats, or fruits, or greens,
consumed two times per day and sometimes three,
accompanied by sour lemon tea.
Dessert would be a muffin in a cup,
though eaten from the bottom, working up.
I'll mention that he stood up when he ate
and owned but just a single dinner plate
and seldom was invited out to dine,
a situation he thought very fine.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Phil Huffy would be
pleased to hear them.