GREEN DOOM

Green doom, spiky vegetable grenade,
Mediterranean meanderer.
Oh thick leafed spiteful lying meadow maid,
Worse than cow'rdly thief or slanderer.
So, so much of you and yet so little,
Score hours and ten to find your weeny bud,
Such travail is worth less than my spittle,
For all your flavour you are surely dud.
No, I will never curry your favour,
nor stray to Californy where you abound,
I will never look upon you as saviour,
For fundamentally you are unsound.
Get thee from my plate, it's not a joke,
Silence! Speak no more... of the artichoke!