What is the
point of salad?
It’s the most
boring food I recall
It must be made
out of water
Cause it tastes
of nothing at all
Lettuce is like
chewing a carpet
That’s been
crossed by too many feet
And no matter
how often you bite it
You can’t mash
it up with your teeth
And beetroot’s
just lumpy red liquid
Cardboard in
vinegar stew
It’s what they
give you in prison
As a method of
punishing you
Don’t talk to me
about celery!
It must be made
from string!
It gets stuck in
your teeth, so whenever you speak
You sound like
the squeak on a swing
And tomatoes are
just soggy apples,
Made of pips and
peely old skin.
They leave
stains all over your jumper
And leak all
over your chin
Spring onions
are nothing but vicious,
Made to bring
tears to your eyes.
Your breath will
smell like a donkey,
And your tongue
will feel like it’s died
Which brings me
to the little red radish
That looks like
a toe off your feet.
It probably fell
off your grandma
When she sat at
the table to eat
Then there’s the
noble old carrot,
Which rabbits
truly adore.
But I don’t see
the point or have the desire
To eat a carrot
that’s raw!
And sitting
there sad and silent,
What’s this? A
dastardly trick?
No! It’s
coleslaw, a mish-mash of horror!
A salady pile of
old sick!
So give me
hamburgers, chips and some ice cream,
Bacon and
lashings of pop.
Something that’s
tasty with fat in.
Cause salad’s a
squelchy green flop.
