Can't Cook! Won't Cook!
The great unwashed, who cannot cook,
Must (swiftly please) be brought to book
A book of course they cannot read,
For words are not for them. Indeed
Their role in propping up the pile
Is low and needy (rather vile),
The drudgery for which their class
Exists. They are the nation's arse.
But Cookery! For heaven's sake.
They're bred to fry, to boil, to bake,
To wash, and afterwards to dry.
(But not to eat. They live and die
To serve The Upper House - the leisured -
And on their uppers they'll be measured.)
I may offend to pigeonhole
The hoi-polloi upon the dole,
By urging them to leave their lagers
And spend more time on using Agas...
Good job that they are not Patels
The corner-shopping ne'er-do-wells
Who cause delays on motorways
When they have cuts of meat to braise,
When there are vegetables to bubble.
How dense they are! They're too much trouble :
Daft they are, and dumb as deaf,
And don't deserve to be a chef ...