I do not like asparagus
That rooty shooty plant
And you won’t really care, I guess,
About this silly rant
Its stems are pulpy, woody-like.
Its tips have tiny spades.
That look for all the world, to me,
Like mini hand grenades.
I’ve tried to cook it many ways
And give it proper lovin’.
I’ve boiled and steamed and creamed and braised
And shrunk it in the oven.
My daddy used to buy it canned
And put it on his toast.
I fancied him a true gourmand
And to my friends I’d boast.
But, now that I’m a very cook
(I’ve tried each recipe)
I’ve tasted all, and by the book,
But it gives me smelly pee.
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.