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Ode To The Classic Hotdog

by Henry Shaw 2 months ago in family
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Of Sonnets and Sausage

Ode To The Classic Hotdog
Photo by Ball Park Brand on Unsplash

Hot Dog.

Hot Diggity!

A backyard staple, bologna’s cousin of dignity.

A concoction, a compound,

An enigmatic treat.

Fill me a tube of that mixed up minced meat

A cacophonous casing of pig’s heads and feet.

Ground up chicken guts in holsters so neat.

Or maybe its something like tendons and livers

But, you know, only true heroes eat it, no shivers.

Some truly love it, others are skeptics,

But we’ve all tried one sometime, so you just gotta accept it.

Whatever your choice, whatever your stance,

Hot dog don’t judge, if you simply give it a chance.

Like green eggs and ham you just might enjoy it,

Cuz despite countless attempts, not even the FDA can destroy it.

So why try to fight it, why insist on the hate,

It's not gonna hurt ya, it’ll just be something you ate.

They’ve been around since the first summer barbecues,

So broaden your horizons, refuse to refuse.

You just might learn something, may enjoy the experience,

Of trying something new, opening your mind to the mysterious.

There’s a blissful freedom to eat one however you please,

With ketchup, mustard, or the unexpected mashed potatoes and cheese.

Piping hot from the grill, or straight from the pack cold,

People love this meat meld whether 6 or 600 years old.

On a bun, on a plate, or diced up in cheesy mac,

The frankenstein frankfurter goes beyond a simple snack.

What makes this meaty mish mash so important you ask,

Why, I’ll tell you, it's simple, yes, a very easy task.

They say “you are what you eat,” a powerful truth to ponder,

And I contend that the hotdog is where everyone's palate should wander.

As a staple of summer, it reminds one of home,

The smells of cut grass, hot grills, and the kitchens we’d roam.

The taste of potato salad, and the best cobbler you’ve ever known.

Memories of family, friends, one’s with whom you never felt alone.

We invite them to gatherings, no matter the occasion,

Always they’re welcome, day to day, or celebration.

Without them it just wouldn’t feel the same,

Their absence at get-togethers would only bring shame.

Though at times we may part, grow distant, and change,

Our memories remain fond even if now they seem strange.

Yes regardless of taste, texture, or how it’s presented,

A hotdog’s always welcome and never dissented.

So the next time you think you’re too good for a frank,

Instead remember this lesson, and you'll know who to thank,

That no matter the inside, the contents, or how prepped,

A classic hot dog teaches us to love and accept.

family

About the author

Henry Shaw

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