The Grilling Time of Year

Mystery Meat

It is the grilling time of year.

The most wonderful time of year, when a man's thoughts turn to meat and barbecue sauce.

And MORE MEAT!

Meat you have slaughtered yourself.
        The blood is on your hands.
                And ours as well.

Indeed. The blood is on your hands.

And it is tasty.

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Blood and Barbecue Sauce

Is that blood?
Or is it barbecue sauce?
I can't tell.
It's a flood.
Bring the floss.
I have a hell
Of a lot of gristle
Between my teeth.

A Meat Haiku

Chicken beef and pork
are delicious and tasty...
also, full of win

Meat Wootness.

A grilling flame,
Seems mighty lame,
Without a hunk,
Of some beast tamed.

Chicken, pork, or big beef roast.
Please don't cook it til it's toast.
Leave it pink,
How I love it most.

And please don't forget the sauce,
Or I will feel completely lost.
Barbecue, ketchup, Jamaican, Soy,
I think they are all quite boss.

Indeed.

*snaps fingers*

You should respond in poetic form.

MOAR MEET

The sides too I do enjoy
Beans, potato salad, slaw
If you'll excuse me it's time to eat
I have to unhinge my jaw

Well, that settles it.

None of us will ever make money writing poetry. Intense love of meat does not a good poet make.

Meat is good.
Meat is great.
I dearly thank God,
for ribeye steaks.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day
With the aroma of tasty meat frying?
Probably not, for if I preferred you,
I would most assuredly be lying.

What's in a name?

It's not a cookout, it's a meatfeast.

Really.

You really should apologize to the Bard.

B B Q
L O L
You'd better love it,
or go to hell.

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