After the midday meal
when I was feeling ezbored,
and tv confirmed
the day’s dud deal,
a huge turnip turned up,
knocked at the door.
Yeah, it’s true I tell you,
but what I thought was vegetable,
wasn’t quite of this planet,
more so stellar-organic.
T’was the size of a small car,
and smelt like onion gravy.
The surface was slightly cooked,
in fact it was f-mucked,
then, as I stared at the limp root
out popped an explorative shoot.
The shoot grew a leafy hand,
and fumbled blindly around,
had a high reach for veg I thought
and as it squeezed my left knee,
hmmm, I quickly moved away.
It opened a concealed door,
and that was strange indeed
as out jumped small cabbage aliens,
old depressed sprouts?!?
No doubts in my mind,
on Sundays you’ll find it seems
plenty of unwanted greens.
