Hay, vegans,
Oats, vegans,

Vegans, they won’t kill
For flesh—such vittles grilled will make them ill.
They’ll grill tubers grown on organic farms;
Such grilling can’t do harm to gnu.

Vegans taste the fare
Nurtured on hills in sunlight and fresh air.
They’ll bake nothing that barks or emits cries
And make sweet tater pies for me!

Vegans, Goddess* they love. . .salad bar.
Surely they’ll nix the Ranch—
Buttermilk makes them blanch.

Vegans eat tofu;
They’ll turn up faces at platters puupuu.
They’ll give you all the lunch they have to give,
With no animals that lived.

Vegans, gone to have lunch. . .salad bar—
Surely they’ll nix the hams,
But they greatly like yams.

Vegans screech, “Goose!! Moose!!”
They won’t turn down a platter of couscous.
They’ll rip you a new one if you should give
Them animals that once lived.

Hey, Vegans,
Oh, Vegans,
Make my dish tofu.


*sesame-based dressing