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.

but aren't they all random?

Saturday, August 14, 2021

peas: canned or frozen?

The way I see it, fresh peas is best. 
In a recipe that calls for peas? You can go 
canned, and probably no demon will rape 
you in both eye sockets leaving you seeing 
red for life, or you can go frozen and probably
everyone who looks at you every day for years
thereafter will let you pass by without spitting.
They won't even know, probably -
unless they saw. 

But fresh to my mind is best. Fresh peas 
have been waiting there fresh for you 
all along, to discover! On the stalk, 
or in a pod, or still part of the pea
plant itself, being fed and nourished 
by arcane vegetable means. Probably 
whatever part became the pea came 
out of the ground that way: fresh. Before 
the flower and the bee, that part was part 
of the plant, waiting. All we had to do 
was wait with it, for it, to get ripe 
and ready! Ready to can! Ready 
to freeze! But you can, 

if you try,
or if someone lets you 
(and nobody hollers, "FREEZE!"),

swoop in on the ripe pods and bolt!
Before the scumbag can have his 
canned and frozen say. Making off 
with fresh peas, hollering "Watch it! 
I'm a pod person!" to deter pursuit 
and curious onlookers. Clearly, 

you've made your decision by then: FRESH, 
and I won't criticize your methods. Prepare 
the dish, obedient to instruction for best 
results, and as to how many it serves? 

Well, how many peas were in how 
many pods you manages to get?

Probably less than the dish calls for, 
or the diners expect, but cheer up. 

Most people don't even like peas. 

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