Carrots! I demand more carrots!
Thus I do entreat you, please you to entertain, an idea I press upon you, carrots mashed or strained.
Carrots I implore you, put them in my mouth, if a spoon should come in with them, I’ll eat it – have no doubt!
The spoon got too close to Carrot Face
This poem I haver writ, to tell you of my love, of sloppy messy carrots, in my mouth I beg you shove.
On my face I will display them, a badge of honor dear, and stew them in my belly, orange soup – nutritious cheer.
Carrots? Where have you gone?
Poems I have written, odes to carrots true, but can scarce suffice, to give my carrot’s due.
Penned this day of our Lord, All Carrot’s Hallo’d Eve, 2010.
Finnegan Wilde Kincaid