Friday, December 16, 2011

Vegetable Poetry

Why you ask?  Because I can.  This is for an unfortunate friend who ate a pound of Brussel sprouts, and then some chili.  And Jules, don’t worry, no one reads our blog.  

An Ode to the Brussel Sprout
A vegetable’s lament

Oh, I am but a little ball of death.
With a distinct aroma of morning breathe.
A pleasant accompaniment to steamed meat.
Friend to the woeful rutabaga and beet.
I am but a midget cabbage,
Your gastrointestinal track, I will ravage.
Sauté me, boil me, deep fat fry me,
No matter the course, you’ll need the potty
What’s this you utter, are you feeling poopy?
Things, shall we say, a little soupy?
Now mind you then, heed my warning shouts,
You shouldn’t eat your weight in brussel sprouts!