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.