The pomegranate soup is very fine,
To follow, sautéed hawthorn leaves with spice
accompanied by homemade beetroot wine,
and, for dessert, a rose and tulip ice.
The whole woke menu fashioned just to please
A hirsute hipster, especially as all cooked
by gender-neutral folk in dungarees,
so popular they’re always fully booked.
Is there a philosophical mistake?
When filled with tender pity they contrive
to think it wrong to eat a chop or steak –
Are not the plants also as much alive?
The virtuous vegans won’t touch meat or cheese,
But still eat once-live beans and peas.

by Jonathan Bradley
Jonathan Bradley, a Renaissance Man with a career that spans finance and Academia, versifies his individual take on city life and points up the advantages of reflection as in ‘Escape from a pre-computer office‘.
POEM
Vegan Restaurant
More Poems by Jonathan Bradley