Lawrence Hall, HSG
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                             Broccoli on the Primary Ballot

                         (as President Bush maior did not say)

Broccoli, limp broccoli, that’s all I see
Just rotting broccoli all stink, stunk, stank
No real choices today, only broccoli –
The same old broccoli, putrid and rank

set fire, burn, smoke
my tiny brain broccolis
overanalyze

My nickname for you was "broccoli".
I called you that because
Your hair is so curly
That one of our classmates
Tried to describe it and could only
Come up with "broccoli"
And somehow that name stuck in my heart.
To this day, I can't eat broccoli
Without thinking of you,
Picturing your curly brown hair
And kind green eyes
And strong yet tender fingers
And brilliant ear-to-ear smile
And smirk just for me.

I miss you. A lot.
I never told you I was in love with you,
And I regret that.
So I want to write a book of poems
And promote it far and wide
Just so I'll have the chance
To maybe catch your attention
And see you again.
Then, maybe I can tell you
"Thanks for the collection of Emerson
You so thoughtfully bought me...
That's what made me fall
Head over heels for you."