I have often balked at fresh meat before,
And since then I swore that I would never eat a boar.
I've renounced fish-fries; no more shepherds pies,
Or ribeye; it's on sweet fare I'll live.

I'll drink dry sack down if packs a pound
Of maltose; that's no small dose; I'll toast another round.
Sweet enhancement pours in my can of Coors;
When I'm dry, it's sweet drinks that I'll sieve.

The baker powdering sweet things--
It's like snow coming down through air.
Forsaking chowder and meat things
Now pass me seconds, please, of this saccharine fare.

Feed me chocolate squares, they're so heavenly;
Petits fours, I'll plenty gorge; pan dulce, leaven-free.
Glycemic's too high, but I won't pare my
Pie diet; it's on sweet fare I'll live.