You Say...?

The columnist who writes for Lifestyles
quite outdid herself today.  Her column 
an exercise of praise for the bold,
adventurous palate.  Not for her the 
same-old urban genteel dinner fare.
Her admiration waxed large for her
host, an excellent cook and gourmand,
apart from his professional credentials in
high finance.  Setting the bar high for her
upscale set, she praised the delicacy he
put before his guests, a dish steeped in
extra virgin olive oil, chopped garlic,
thyme and well-peppered to great acclaim.
The meat white and sumptuously toothy,
the bones fine, a mystery source.  But then
no mystery at all; to awaken the jaded
palettes of his guests, he had ventured out
that very morning to trap grey squirrels,
skin and marinate their tender flesh
for their delectation.  They are, after all,
the thrilled and learned columnist wrote
for the titillated edification of her readers,
only vermin - of a kind our forebears,
hunting for kill, regularly supplied old
reputable larders with.  Not mine, never mine.
These are the hugely sentient creatures that
recognize my quotidian purpose, greeting
me and communing their desires as I
dole out peanuts this approaching
winter, for their most particular larder.