The best poems are written on the hardy limbs of vegetables. Broccoli, cauliflower, and parsnips. Delicate truths spiral up stems and skip across indentations left by careless produce handlers. Gut-words escape from the penetralia of the mind, to end up nib-scratched on rutted, aromatic skin. Ink soaks into small fleshless creases, and pools at the roots. Cabbage leaves are the superior blotting papers of the Cruciferous world.
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea.
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A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea. 
This is fabulous! I just love it. So many senses come into play. Wonderful wordplay and sound. Just really strong poetry, Miss Maedez. 🙂
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Thanks so much, Jennifer. That is seriously a huge compliment coming from someone with your literary sensibilities. You made my day with this compliment. Also, it is weird to see you refer to me as Miss Maedez, as you know my real name! Haha. 🙂
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I love this. I would really enjoy reading another piece of Vegetable Literature, Maedez!
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Thanks! The idea came to me in a dream, and the result is totally different (and much better) than the inspiration. I might just do a few more, though, as it flexed some writing muscles not in my normal rotation.
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I especially like the idea of cabbage leaves as blotters. I thought that was really fun.
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Thanks! It seemed logical. Er, as logical as one can get when writing about penning poems on vegetables.
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