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Alas, Poor Brussels Sprouts

Because it’s been too long since we’ve had any bad poetry.


Alas, poor Brussels sprouts

In the vegetable world, you hold little clout.

Yet if people truly knew you, I do not doubt

That they would like you, even more than trout!


For when I braise you in a melted pat of butter

Your tasty taste sets my heart aflutter!

Into my napkin I then mutter,

“Anyone who doesn’t love you–is a nutter!”


True, your looks leave something to be desired;

In all that greenness, you are mired.

Making you pretty can leave one tired.

So it is a good thing I’m no pro chef–or I’d be fired.



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