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Published: May 30, 2010
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Have you ever heard a Rutabaga
Scream?  Or tortured a Turnip till it
Bleeds?  My father doesn't understand why
I do not care for meat.  But, oh, to see
A Carrot stretched upon the rack.  Sheer Joy!
How I relish the very thought of a
Broccoli being ripped and torn apart.
I walk into a garden, looking for
My next victim.  The Cabbage tries in
Vain to bury its head.  the Spinach runs
For cover.  And the Cucumbers--wait till
They see what I have in store for them.  Though
Satan cares more for burning flesh, I think
My virgin vegetable sacrifice is best.
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