Salad Doesn’t Want to be Eaten

My wife recently left for Florida for a few days to attend a ladies retreat. She has a custom of including something green in just about every meal, which we of course consume without complaint. The boys and I don’t really mind. It’s just that without her adding green things, we would tend to forget. So, as she left she planted a gentle reminder to not forget the green things. The first day that she was gone, I was driving home from work and was suddenly inspired to write the following, not so much because I believe it, but more that I just thought it was funny. I was struck with the title first. Then came the idea of a child attempting to convince his mother that salad was actually sentient and constantly making efforts to avoid being consumed. The following poem resulted.

Mother, I know you want me to grow,
And I'd much rather avoid a beatin'.
But what you don't know, and I intend to show
Is that salad doesn't want to be eaten.

The lettuce sticks to the plate like glue;
My fork can't poke it in place.
When it finally works the lettuce jerks
And flicks dressing all over my face.

Cherry tomatoes are round and bouncy;
They'd probably best stay at the store.
They make a squeak when I try to fork them,
And they dart out across the floor.

Red onions can't possibly be safe.
And the research is intensive
That when things in nature don't want to be eaten
They try to smell offensive.

And not to mention avocado's either,
They don't want to be eaten I reckon.
They secretly plotted to go from unripe to rotted
In just under a second.

Cucumbers, peppers, spinach, and carrots
They've developed a secret power. 
They've concocted a trick where you can eat yourself sick
And be hungry in less than an hour.

Vegetables have a mind of their own.
My logic here can't be be beaten.
So don't be mistaken, just replace them with bacon
Because salad doesn't want to be eaten.

~ Thomas Balzamo

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