MY VEGETABLES ARE MY ENEMIES. POEMS

My mom tries very hard to please.

My vegetables are my enemies

A carrot in a sword fight can’t be beat.
A carrot on my plate I cannot eat.

Peas, a game of marbles I can do.
Peas with melted butter taste like goo.

Don’t even put a radish next to me.
My mother makes them roses, pointlessly.

Turnips, I can’t say I understand.
Don’t even bother opening the can.

Brussel sprouts are agony.

Broccoli is mean to me.

She’s tried them alphabetically.
And none of them appealed to me.

I can’t imagine Mom could ever bring
A single green or growing thing –

– But wait – of all the things I’ve had,
Zucchini isn’t all that bad.