Got BBQ Burn Out?? by ChezJohn
I do love summer as a rule,
I've time to play and there's no school.
There's peace and quiet, yes, until,
My dad decides to use the grill.
"It's cook out time!" comes from his mouth
And birds leave early for the south.
For the ball park near us it's no joke.
Last year ten games were called for smoke.
As everybody clears the scene,
He lights the coals with gasoline.
Ever since he scorched his hair,
He has asbestos underwear.
The burgers sizzle, then they flare.
As Dad calls out, "Who wants 'em rare?"
We all shudder when we see.
His dangerous rotisserie.
The free range chickens twist and turn,
And drip on wieners as they burn.
When this aroma spreads through town
Our neighbors hose their houses down.
He boils the vinegar and oil,
For salad he has cooked in foil.
The fire department came to see
One cookout when he burned a tree.
He roasts the corn right off the ear,
His blackened brats we really fear.
Dad's secret sauce, he stirs with glee,
To spread on ribs that stick to me.
And when we all sit down to eat,
We chew and chew and chew the meat,
And praise him, even though it's bad.
Cause after all, he is our DAD!
—Grandpa Tucker 1996
Kindly submitted by (...actually I stole it from...) ChezJohn from TMF's BBQ Board.
A Valentine's Day Poem by ChezJohn
O my BBQ's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June
O my BBQ's like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass
So deep in the blue smoke am I
That I will luve thee still, my dear
When yer hams are hung to dry
Till my sausage is hung to dry, my dear
And the baby back ribs are done
I will luve thee still, my dear
Though my beer stein doth overrun
So fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well awhile
And I will come again, my Luve
'Cause yer smokin' butt makes me smile
Apologies to Robert Burns, LOL.
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