The Foul Mouthed Chef
He'd curse at the Steak and Kidney pies
and swear if the souffle's failed to rise
he'd jump up and down in a rage
if he disliked the taste of the Sage.
Losing his rag he'd throw a dish
if he didn't like the look of the fish
and if the soup just wasn't quite right
he'd be in a mood the rest of the night.
Even with customers he'd cut up rough
if they complained that the Beef was too tough
in temper his face would turn Red
and sweat would drip down from his head.
He'd become a big star on the Telly
for shouting abuse at a bowl of Jelly
in the kitchens he'd go berserk
if a simple recipe had failed to work.
And if a meal was just one minute late
he'd rant and rave and smash a plate
kick and punch a hole in a door
and throw cutlery down onto the floor.
But tasting gravy he swore was too thick
he suddenly became violently sick
the foul mouthed chef drew his last breath
Arsenic was the cause of his death!
poem by Kevin Halls
Added by Poetry Lover
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