The crazy thing about pickled
ginger is the taste so strong
It's like somebody figured out
(sans fizz) how to get a whole can
of ginger ale, make the sweetness go
away and fit the whole remaining taste
into a pale, slightly crunchy slightly
slimy folded-over piled-up item. Now
it's sitting there looking at you, or
you it. Are you going to eat that?
If you know what's good for you.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.