Joey Spatula, a chef of egg salad simplicity,
Didn’t know a tamale from crème brulee,
But nonetheless wished for Michelin renown.
So he hung in the window of his luncheonette
A Michelin tire…
Like roasted window ducks in Chinatown…
And placed a Michelin sign beside it.
But guilt became the mother of mutation,
When he discovered Escoffier online
And replaced his baseball cap
With the souffle puff of a chef’s hat
And learned to make
Tripe and trout and goose pate,
Coq au vin and cassoulet,
Then changed Joey’s Luncheonette
To the Ivory Spatula,
Took the tire from the window
And waited to be discovered.