On Adequate Sampling

He claimed it was a goblet of the sweetest, purest wine
But the first sip tastes like vinegar to me.
He said, “but near the bottom there’s a sip that’s just divine—
You may have to drink a lot of it to see.”
He calls me narrow-minded cos I haven’t tried the rest
Says my condemnation takes a lot of gall
And he’s sure that there’s a sip in there that truly is the best
Which I can’t deny until I’ve tried it all.
It’s true, I haven’t tried it all, but gladly I’ll forego,
Since the first sip only made me want to spit
It might not all be vinegar—I guess I’ll never know—
But the man himself is surely full of shit.

Context here, of course.


  1. The Lorax says

    “The taste,” he said, “is like a dream,
    The texture smooth as silk.”
    Alas, it wasn’t sweetened cream,
    But only sour milk.

    “Oh no,” he said, “you must drink more,
    Before you savor dregs.”
    To keep on drinking was a chore,
    Like smelling rotten eggs.

    “You’ll see,” he said, “when you are done,
    You’ll be a better man.”
    He’s right; if I survive this one
    I’ll not suffer again.

    Having drank for many years,
    The dregs I do not see.
    This drink has caused me many tears
    And so I ask him, warily.

    “Just drink,” he said, “and then you’ll know,
    There’s good in every cup.”
    I know he wants to help me, though…
    I wish he’d just shut up.

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