Questionable Vegetables

A light verse poem/narrative poem/comic poem/song-poem

I was cooking lunch yesterday and puled out some leftover roasted vegetables. My wife informed me that those were very old, so they needed to be thrown away. I said to myself (and anyone who was listening), “So they’re questionable vegetables.” And then I made up this story. Here’s “Questionable Vegetables”:

Questionable vegetables
Nasty, green comestibles
My gag from the bag was heard
In the streets and billiards halls
You wouldn't even guess
She had offered me food
'Cause that lean, green machine
Stank it up at high noon.

Feelin' down, knocked around
Went to the doc
Backflips in my stomach
With my digestion blocked
I was feeling lethargic,
Queasy, grody, and sad,
So I picked myself up
And I phoned a quick cab

Walked into the cinic
Didn't know what I was missin'
Said, "My gut's all bad,"
So they got the dietitian
She looked real nice,
And still she grinded my gears,
'Cause when she made a suggestion,
It reduced me to tears.

Questionable vegetables
Nasty, green comestibles
My gag from the bag was heard
In the streets and billiards halls
You wouldn't even guess
She had offered me food
'Cause that lean, green machine
Stank it up at high noon.

Thought I would get hooked up
With some prescription drugs,
Or a laxative, a sedative,
Or that Ozempic stuff
Wel, no, that's not it
She didn't go for that ish,
'Cause my pretty dietitian
Was a vegetarian.

Laurie looked me up and down,
And said, "I got you figured out —
You just need some clean greens,
Beans, that's what I'm about
Take a stack from my stash
Come back when you need more;
I got loads of leafy junkies
Who come breakin' down my door."

Questionable vegetables
Nasty, green comestibles
My gag from the bag was heard
In the streets and billiards halls
You wouldn't even guess
She had offered me food
'Cause that lean, green machine
Stank it up at high noon.

Took a look, sniffed a whiff,
Puked out my lunch
Shoulda known that with this one
Had to follow my hunch
That lettuce wouldn't let us
Get that gut to a cure,
And the garden wouldn't guard 'em,
So I showed her the door.

Questionable vegetables
Nasty, green comestibles
My gag from the bag was heard
In the streets and billiards halls
You wouldn't even guess
She had offered me food
'Cause that lean, green machine
Stank it up at high noon.

Thanks for reading. This Saturday, I’ll be posting the monthly paid post with a couple of commissioned poems from my $10/month subscribers. Part of the first poem will be for everyone to see, and the rest will be behind the paywall.