I, Garlic
A poem
Even though
almost everybody sings my praises
there are very few songs about me.
You could argue I’m everywhere,
even when you don’t get to see me.
I have been diced, crushed,
pureed, and, gasp, pulverized.
They call me versatile but,
what I truly am, is paramount.
If you doubt my words,
devote a few minutes
to imagine a world without me.
Pretty repulsive, huh?
Sadly, there are those
who claim they can’t stand me.
They say I’m too pungent,
that they can sense me from a block away
and that my aroma
brings them pain.
Poor fools!
There’s nothing I can do about it,
and, in fact, I don’t need to;
after all, I’m the king of the spice rack,
and you’ll struggle to find a kitchen
without me.
So, let the naysayers
keep spreading their myths;
I know who I am,
and so do you.
I am the mighty garlic,
coming soon
to a dish near you.
Thanks to Jupiter Grant for the tag.
