Lord Marmalade's homage to Coleridge (below).

The last line of the poem put it over the top: "spiteful rake you got your butter's worth."

His Lordship will receive a free bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup, or real maple syrup, if he prefers.

In Xanadu would Tony do
what a boar deigns beneath him,
to grunt in rut of cunning stunt,
a grudge, a nudge, lust's labored affront.

This carnal feast, a hoary beast,
brings the chef's skill to bear.
To bone a duck no mean feat,
but this deep-fried bird
would best the mettle and sway
of even august Escoffier.

The bird once boned, now time to stuff
with tangy delights, plums and nuts.
An act of depravity in that cavity,
the fowl laden succumbs to love's gravity.

Now baste it slow in warm afterglow
of pungent unguents, work in your tallow,
wick away your lip-licked labored sighs
pay attention kneading knuckles to the thighs.
Exhausted, spent, of effort no dearth,
spiteful rake you got your butter's worth.

AP photo