by Baxter Black
a dissertation on plant’s rights
Ladies and diners I make you
A shameful, degrading confession.
A deed of disgrace in the name of good taste
Though I did it, I meant no aggression.
I had planted a garden last April
And lovingly sang it a ballad.
But later in June beneath a full moon
Forgive me, I wanted a salad!
So I slipped out and fondled a carrot
Caressing its feathery top.
With the force of a brute I tore out the root!
It whimpered and came with a pop!
Then laying my hand on a radish
I jerked and it left a small crater.
Then with the blade of my True Value spade
I exhumed a slumbering tater!
Celery I plucked, I twisted a squash!
Tomatoes were wincing in fear.
I choked the Romaine. It screamed out in pain,
Their anguish was filling my ears!
I finally came to the lettuce
As it cringed at the top of the row
With one wicked slice I beheaded it twice
As it writhed, I dealt a death blow.
I butchered the onions and parsley.
My hoe was all covered with gore.
I chopped and I whacked without looking back
Then I stealthily slipped in the door.
My bounty lay naked and dying
So I drowned them to snuff out their life.
I sliced and I peeled as they thrashed and they reeled
On the cutting board under my knife.
I violated tomatoes
So their innards could never survive.
I grated and ground ‘til they made not a sound
Then I boiled the tater alive!
Then I took the small broken pieces
I had tortured and killed with my hands
And tossed them together, heedless of whether
They suffered or made their demands.
I ate them. Forgive me, I’m sorry
But hear me, though I’m a beginner
Those plants feel pain, though it’s hard to explain
To someone who eats them for dinner!
I intend to begin a crusade
For PLANT’S RIGHTS, including chick peas.
The A.C.L.U. will be helping me too.
In the meantime, please pass the bleu cheese!