Pickle Party
Bread and Butter showed up first,
thank God, with bread and butter
(we hadn't any food out yet).
They had flown in from Detroit
on a real time-crunch.
Then the Gherkins arrived
Pushing through and eating
Half the sourdough and margarine.
Total Gherks.
The cornichons arrived soon after,
slightly smaller than gherkins
and with French accents.
They stood against the back wall
smoking cigarettes.
The limes ubered over,
Sour looks on their faces
while handing us egg salad.
Their driver got lost
Putting them in a real pick-
Oh here comes an army of Hungarians,
They had been sun basking all day,
Their conversations crisp and witty.
Must be all that vitamin D.
Ahhh the Dills, speaking of d's.
They're royalty here.
Everyone's clapping,
Which is hard to do for a pickle.
Oh Kosher was right behind the Dills
and we didn't notice.
Hope that's not a big dill.
Now I smell them. Garlic.
What's that?
Germans have been waiting in the hallway?
I told them skinless is fine.
They found my terminology "unappealing?"
Cumberto, send some herring out for them, anyhow.
Welcome full sour,
welcome half sour,
and the newborn,
Little quarter sour.
Now take those looks
off your faces
and have a seat.
Last but not least,
the hot pickles,
always late,
soooo popular.
Well, thank-you all for coming
We have herring, potato salad,
Bread and butter, we have baseball
pickle highlights on the tube on a loop and-
Oh!
One more guest I see,
Kool-Aid, of course,
Cuz that's a thing.
Try the vinegar dip,
And please don't stain my couch red.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2022
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