DINNER TIME

Whenever I go out for dinner
I order the fish – not the ham
My mother taught me to keep kosher
I guess (in a way) I still am

Though for a while as a youngster
I ate nothing that had a face
It's not that I tried to be moral
The truth is I tried to erase

The pounds I had put on in college
And over the years I grew thin
My friends said "you must be a vegan?"
"That's virgin" I said with a grin

One day a man offered free dinner
He said, "I will cook you a meal"
I asked him, just what he'd be serving
He said, "I'll make bacon and eel"

Perhaps the Bordeaux he was pouring
Had weakened my resolve just a touch
`Cause after a few sips, I murmured
"I usually don't drink this much

And after a spell I grew hungry
Alas there was nothing but *traife
I knew I'd be paying for dinner
In ways that would make me unsafe

I said, "I had better be going
I hope you don't think I'm a prig.
Some people say, "eel tastes like chicken,
And I'm certain that you are a pig"

These days, though I do not keep kosher
I eat like the animals do
I make sure that when I eat dinner
I know who is cooking it too.

* = Hebrew for non-kosher