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The Cristmas ode to a tanned sprout

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The Cristmas ode to a tanned sprout

Even if you are the tanned sprout
tightly packed 
in pretty cane
filled with olive oil 
you could not stop to dream about ocean, 
lolled by such hopes and illusions
seemed groundless absolutely. 
But while your truth is hard and distorted
you will soon unavoidable
unpacked and go to the trip 
to the Christmas table
where served with cheese and red wine 
for the sweet departure 
to the stomachs of more luckier dreamers and gourmands.
I wish you to be eaten by nice lady
if it would you relax and nurtured 
for other form of coexisting
in body of whom who devoured us.
But if you are the ended atheist 
white a little, headless sprouty, 
all of them
who caught, cut, prepared, tanned, 
mailed, sold, baught, presented
and ate you 
will be combined together
chewed, crumbled, munched 
and return to the soil of mother nature.

From where you will select,
ask and have full right to start 
more preferable fate and future. 

Copyright © zamir osorov

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