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24 October 2007

Write beef poetry. Win $100 worth of beef. Come on people, I know you can do it.[More:]

My local grocery store is having a contest. So let's hear your best.
Beef what a relief
When will this poisonous product cease?
This is another public service announcement
You can believe it or you can doubt it
Let us begin now with the cow
The way it gets to your plate and how
The cow doesn't grow fast enough for man
So through his greed he makes a faster plan
He has drugs to make the cow grow quicker
Through the stress the cow gets sicker
Twenty one different drugs are pumped
Into the cow in one big lump
So just before it dies, it cries
In the slaughterhouse full of germs and flies
Off with the head, they pack it, drain it, and cart it
And there it is, in your local supermarket
Red and bloody, a corpse, neatly packed
And you wonder about heart attacks?
Come on now man let's be for real
You are what you eat is the way I feel
But, the Food and Drug Administration
Will tell you meat is the perfect combination
See cows live under fear and stress
Trying to think what's gonna happen next
Fear and stress can become a part of you
In your cells and blood, this is true
So when the cow is killed, believe it
You preserve those cells, you freeze it
Thaw it out with the blood and season it
Then you sit down and begin eatin it
In your body, it's structure becomes your structure
All the fear and stress of another
Any drug is addictive by any name
Even drugs in meat, they are the same
The FDA has America strung out
On drugs in beef no doubt
So if you think that what I say is a bunch of crock
Tell yourself you're gonna try and stop
Eatin meat and you'll see you can't compete
It's the number one drug on the street
Not crack, cause that was made for just black
But brown beef, for all American teeth
Life brings life and death brings death
Keep on eatin the dead and what's left
Absolute disease and negative
Read the book 'How to Eat to Live'
By Elijah Muhammad, it's a brown paperback
For anybody, either white or black
See how many cows must be pumped up fatter
How many rats gotta fall in the batter
How many chickens that eat shit you eat
How much high blood pressure you get from pig feet
See you'll consume, the FDA could care less
They'll sell you donkey meat and say it's
FRESH! For nineteen-ninety, you SUCKERS
posted by box 24 October | 14:40
How much beef do you get for $100, anyway?
posted by box 24 October | 14:41
Holy shit, box, that was fast. I've been working on mine for an hour.
posted by mudpuppie 24 October | 14:43
I love to chew my beef
I chew it with my teeth
Its juice tastes like pure sin
As it dribbles down my chin
I'm filled with joy -- and how!
When I'm dining on some cow
posted by agropyron 24 October | 14:43
A haiku, hopefully not to soapboxy -

I ponder some beef.
Too bad there is shit in it.
So I eat some beans.

why is the home page all wanky?
posted by tr33hggr 24 October | 14:47
ACK! "too soapboxy"!
posted by tr33hggr 24 October | 14:48
Well, I can work pretty quickly when I'm just copy-and-pasting KRS-One lyrics. Here's something original:

Nugget beef is all-natural Angus.
Good enough for Charles Mingus.
So say goodbye to that pork-pie hat,
and eat some beef, marbled with fat.
Nugget's USDA-approved,
so fire some up, like they fired up MOVE.
And every cow's a vegetarian--
packed with corn, not with carrion.
Nugget Beef is tasty and tender
And it makes a great smoothie--just add a blender.
posted by box 24 October | 14:50
Here's something I call Ode to a Cow.

You look so amazing
Standing there, grazing
Not knowing your future or fate
Not a care, not a sigh
Just another cow pie
Before you end up on my plate

I praise you, bovine
With a nice glass of wine
Such a fabulous dinner you'll make
I'd broil, roast or grill you
But god knows your milieu
Is a well-marbled, nice juicy steak

So enjoy yourself cow
Don't think of it now
As you ruminate silage and hay
Oh beef on the hoof,
My cherished le bouef,
I could eat you all night and all day
posted by mudpuppie 24 October | 14:52
Mooing up the chute
one hundred percent Angus
calves to the slaughter
posted by mudpuppie 24 October | 15:01
I'm about to go eat lunch, but here's Box's Beef Poetry Challenge: beef-related formal verse. I'm thinking sonnet, sestina, villanelle, something like that. Pretty please?
posted by box 24 October | 15:07
I love the smell of hormones and anti-biotics in the morning,
And the possibility of getting Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy keeps eating beef from being boring.

Beef's better than pork because I can't get trichynosis,
Although beef bourguignonne with garlic gives me halitosis.
posted by iconomy 24 October | 15:09
I have eaten
the steaks
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so beefy
and so raw.

posted by cortex 24 October | 15:28
O Beef!
How do I love thee!
Let me count the ways
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My teeth can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of steaks and ideal roasts.
I love thee even more than yummy toasts.
Most quiet meal, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, for thou puttest up no fight;
Unless though be tough, in which case I marinate
I love thee with a passion my appetite to sate
In my old veggie days, and with my childhood's faith.
I hated thee with a hate I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,
But now, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!
in steaks, roasts and the humble meatloaf
I care not if that makes me an oaf
I still adore thee, ubiquitous cheeseburger
even better laced with sugar
as they do at fast food joints
where with sweet fat you my stomach anoints.
--- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Which shall come quicker all the while
I eat you in this terrible style.
posted by mygothlaundry 24 October | 15:32
With apologies to Jay-Z...

99 PROBLEMS by mullah cc

If you're having meat problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but my beef ain't one

[Verse One]
I got the food patrol on the fat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my brisket's hosed
Food critics that say he's "Money, Steak, Rolls"
I'm from the CIA, stupid, what type of facts are those?
If you grew up with veggies and a tummy ache
You'd celebrate the minute you was eatin hanger steak
I'm like fuck critics you can kiss my cow's round
If you don't like my bbq you can get out of town
Got beef with radio if I don't cater they show
They don't like my tri-tip well I don't give a shit, so
Food mags try and use my meatloaf
So advertisers can give em more cash for ads...fuckers
I don't know what you take me as
or understand the rotisserie that mullah cc has
I went from turkey burgers to filet mignon, I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems but my beef ain't one
Eat me

[Chorus]
99 Problems but my beef ain't one
If you having meat problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Eat me
posted by mullacc 24 October | 15:45
This one's 'specially for you, box:


I note today tomorrow's luncheon, boarding
On dappled grasses, big brindled beastly bovine, in his hoarding
Of the verdant stuff from stomach one to stomach two, and lowing
Deep there, how he sang upon the staff of a clef tumbling,
As an upright bass bowed with more vigor than true feeling
At least by my ear. My stomach growling
Craves the big angus, -- the red blood of, the cooked tissue of the thing!

Sloth, plainness and patience and plod, oh, dirt, pelouse, here
Cudded! And the chops that slice from thee then, twice or thrice
As flavorful then, more delicious, oh my savory steer!
No mystery here: sweet grass makes bovine meat entice
Chefs, and butchers and gourmands, my dear,
To gorge themselves, to the devil with the price.
posted by Hugh Janus 24 October | 15:56
That's great, Hugh.
posted by box 24 October | 16:13
Some of these are amazing.

A standard Rondeau for box (based on 'In Flanders Fields'):

In Tanner Field the bossys mow
Down the grasses, row on row,
That mark their place, and in the sky,
The lazy, watchful clouds go by,
Not noticed by the cows below.

They are soon dead tho days ago
They lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Chewed cud and grass, but soon they'll lie
In Tanner Field.

Take up your quarrel with the carnivoe,
To you from blood-stained hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If you break faith with steak and kidney pie
You shall not want, for bossys lay low
In Tanner Field.
posted by iconomy 24 October | 16:23
I can't think of any rhymes that don't involve "erection" and "hot beef injection."
posted by dismas 24 October | 16:32
That's poetry in itself, dismas.
posted by iconomy 24 October | 16:34
Beef, beef, the binding meat.
The more you scarf, the less you excrete.
The less you excrete, the worse you feel.
So chuck the beef and eat oatmeal.
posted by Atom Eyes 24 October | 16:50
beef haiku

marinate a steak
with a bottle of guinness.
that's some tasty beef.

posted by syntax 24 October | 17:23
I saw the best steaks of my generation seared by
high heat, charring marinated basted,
dragging themselves over the weber grill at dawn
looking for an A1 fix...
posted by jonmc 24 October | 20:03
(the title of that is of course: 'Moo.')
posted by jonmc 24 October | 20:04
There's something quite contrarian
About beef from cows that were guaranteed vegetarian.
posted by wendell 24 October | 22:26
Beef. We spent all day around the stuff.
Dave & his on the stunning and killing,
me with the old guys, on gutting and cutting,
knives sharp as broken glass
glistening in each fluorescent
day like a friday night argument
gone too far.

Perks of the job were few and far
Dave said. Enough money for beer tokens
and sunday night dinner
at the great price of
a four fingered discount.

Four fingers on account of the
fact that he'd
lost this finger when
on gutting and cutting.

They heard that one all the time
but the boys laughed anyway.
It was that kind of job.

He dispensed with
the vegetables. Ate
nothing but beef. His tiny
vegetarian wife
with the tenderised face
could do wonders, but
there's little you need
to do with beef.

He holds the bolt gun casually
in one hand. Each cow is annointed.
A click.
the dead eyes.
The twitching legs.
posted by seanyboy 25 October | 02:19
Bovyne! Bovyne! grazing bright
In the pasture on the right,
What immortal hand on udder
Could churn thy overflowing butter?

In what distant dell or rise
Steamed the pile of cow pies?
O what the recipes shall we aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what rare steak, & on what plank
Could twist the sinews of thy flank?
And when applied to even heat,
What dread brand? & what dread beef?

Where's the ketchup? where's the biscuit?
In what furnace was thy brisket?
What the burger? what dread chili?
Should we cook it on the grill-y?

When the stars threw down their skewers,
And watered heaven with their beers,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb invent souvlaki?

Bovyne! Bovyne! chewing cud,
do you taste good with veg and spud?
What immortal hand could fry
or sear thy fearful beef rib eye?

(What immortal hand would dare
on a Foreman grill, medium rare?)
posted by taz 25 October | 02:25
a haiku, but quite topical

my man learned to make
pho, but it took all damn day
it was so good, yummmm

(In fact, my guy did boil bones and make a lovely freezable pho broth today. We all, even the kiddos, ate every bit we were served. They "hate" onions and had both red and green and asked for seconds.)

posted by lilywing13 25 October | 02:35
2 But, soft! what meat on yonder griddle smokes?
3 It is the beef, and Porterhouse is the cut.
4 Arise, fair slab, and skip the envious salad,
5 Who is already sick and pale with grief,
6 That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
7 Be not her maid, since she is envious;
8 Her vestal livery is but sick and green
9 And none but fools do eat it; cast it off.
10 It is my supper, O, it is my meal!
posted by bmarkey 25 October | 04:21
I love you guys.
posted by Specklet 25 October | 12:16
This post is still good even though it has been in the freezer! Tasty! Thanks!
posted by safetyfork 30 October | 05:45
The BF helps California with fire information stuff. || Cake From Walmart

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