And thus the people every year
in the valley of humid July
did sacrifice themselves
to the long green phallic god
and eat and eat and eat.
They're coming, they're on us,
the long striped gourds, the silky
babies, the hairy adolescents,
the lumpy vast adults
like the trunks of green elephants.
Recite fifty zucchini recipes!
Zucchini tempura; creamed soup;
sauté with olive oil and cumin,
tomatoes, onion; frittata;
casserole of lamb; baked
topped with cheese; marinated;
stuffed; stewed; driven
through the heart like a stake.
Get rid of old friends: they too
have gardens and full trunks.
Look for newcomers: befriend
them in the post office, unload
on them and run. Stop tourists
in the street. Take truckloads
to Boston. Give to your Red Cross.
Beg on the highway: please
take my zucchini, I have a crippled
mother at home with heartburn.
Sneak out before dawn to drop
them in other people's gardens,
in baby buggies at churchdoors.
Shot, smuggling zucchini into
mailboxes, a federal offense.
With a suave reptilian glitter
you bask among your raspy
fronds sudden and huge as
alligators. You give and give
too much, like summer days
limp with heat, thunderstorms
bursting their bags on our heads,
as we salt and freeze and pickle
for the too little to come.
This is so true and extremely well said! Perfect!
And....PAY THE POSTAGE. bri (ex-postal employee) : )
You CAN sneak veggies into mailboxes (I think) , as long as they are packed well, esp. if they are 'fragile, liquid, perishable, or possibly hazardous' to others or other mail.
SQUASH: The eventual downfall of modern civilization! ! bri ;)
Very funny poem. Thanks for sharing.
I laughed myself out of my chair. She put her visualization skills to good effect here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
God, the visualization conjured from this poem is incredibly great! Well written poem!