Dine! My dear?

I think not

Brains en croute

At this time of year

Are definitely not on

Like moules, who can only

Be eaten with a 'r' in the month

Brains, are just not on the menu.

Tinned, you say?

Not as nice

But adequate as a side dish.

A vestal virgin

Is in such bad taste

A little sacrilegious would you say?

Really dear

You are passé

I like them fresh

But they must be matured.

Now an eyeball

That is a different matter

Fresh I hope

Otherwise you lose

That tearful laquer

Ah – dinner

Not what it used to be

Times they are a changing

But I'm hanging in there