I found a tomato
In a salad
On the 4th of July,
And what a wonder that is
For no other reason than
Tomatoes make me cry.
Normally I’d suppress my tears,
Make like our forefathers
And spit on my fears,
But for tomatoes I make an exception.
They’re simply far too evil
For any emotional repression.
Their seeds are full of poison,
Their skin a plastic suit.
Take one bite and you’ll double over –
Be the devil’s latest recruit.
Yes I know, believe me,
Sometimes they look like candy,
But be smart, they tend to lie –
Tomatoes are vegetables
I’ll swear it ‘till I die.
There are people out there
Who think the tomato is a fruit.
“But isn’t it obvious?” I tell them.
“How could you be so obtuse?”
I pity the cucumbers.
I pity the romain.
Mom said, “Just eat around them.”
But you and I know
It just isn’t the same.
I’ll stick to my hot dog,
Extra mustard, please.
The devil’s spawn won’t touch these lips
I’m not making a scene.
“But there’s tomatoes in spaghetti sauce
And you eat that all the time.”
“Shh,” I say to Mom.
“Your ignorance should be a crime.”
She doesn’t like when I say that,
Hates it even more when I rhyme.
So I’m sent to my room –
A blessing in disguise.
Plot twist: I hoard tomatoes.
Yup, they’re mine.