When Marvell wrote, with world and time
His vegetable love might grow
Vast as empires and more slow,
Did no one find the paradigm
More nauseating than sublime?
That’s not a suitor, it’s a floe,
Moreover, one that hopes to sow
Itself abroad with greenish slime
Or bumper crops of squash and soy,
A prospect that, one might assume,
Would almost seem intended to
Render any mistress coy:
The creature of a vast legume??
Some smoothie, why, he’s blended goo—
Less apt to make a woman burn up,
Than yearn for someone else to turnip.
Frank
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-- Frank
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