Ode to the Avocado
O Avocado, fruit so belovèd,
Hard seed, soft flesh, in green leather glovèd,
Spread upon toast for nine dollars apiece,
For you, Avocado, we’re gladly fleeced.
Devouring you more than’s recommended,
Tasty, rich, as a dressing you’re blended,
Mashed with cilantro: Mmm, guacamole,
Mixed up with garlic for fake aioli,
Slices on sammies instead of mayo,
Recipes use you to thicken cacao!
Tropical, Mediterranean climes,
Give us your ‘cados, not your grape vines,
Thirty-four in one hundred: Mexican,
We should not seal off our borders to them!
Forced to cut aguacate from diets,
In Venice and Brooklyn we’d have riots.
We care less for migrant grown-ups and kids,
Than for some vegan and healthy lipids.
But when eating this fruit that gets such fuss,
Avocado, the real joke is on us:
The name of this fruit so majestical
Is the Nahuatl word for testicle.
