Please Pass the SaladA Poem by Stormbringer
What do you do when your brother always takes the best parts of the salad before it gets to you? Write angry poetry about it!
Ah, Ah! Ah! No!
Thou treacherous villain!
You undress our fair repast, ogle it through a glass wall,
sieze by force the purest it has to offer.
Lettuce, my darling, nevermore
shall I hold your supple form in my teeth.
You deflower, plucking bright red tomatoes,
which nevermore shall burst in my mouth
releasing their sweet seeds,
the crowning glory of the banquet before us.
I shall wither away without her,
dying of scurvy at the hands of intemperate fate,
which hath decreed
that the meal shall be passed widdershins round the table. Tis devilish!
This you call restraint?
This you call generosity?
You know very well, fraternal thorn,
that I do not like carrots!
Anon, thou sayest? False knave!
Truly, this fair eve will be yesteryear
ere the sorry remnants of the salad
make their way betwixt us.
© 2011 Stormbringer
AboutAs of 2011, I'm a 27 year old Math and Dance educator. I used to write a fair bit of speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, and random bizarre stuff), and I'm looking to get back into it. more..