Poem: Ode to a Cucumber

Am I more obsessed with cucumbers or Pablo Neruda? It's a toss-up, to be honest.

Well, I recently published a post on the significance of the pickle. Now I present a paean of praise to the pepino, a song for the cucumber. Perhaps I think too often upon the theme of cucurbitaceae, but I think not. The cucumber is sublime, as I believe this poem will show.

Speaking of showing, I’ve posted an image of the page I wrote the poem upon at the bottom of this post.

The poem is dedicated to

Dr. Uriesou Brito

of The Perspectivalist (he has a great Substack), whom I recently heard give a talk in which he waxed eloquent about food. I’m sure he would have preferred that I have dedicated to him an ode to steak, but…this is what came out.

Ode to a Cucumber
for Uri Brito

Consisting in slick skin and fleshy waters,
Hydrodynamic yet still, no longer alive,
He awaits the knife, the life my blade brings.

Together we shall make a salad of slaughters.
Tomatoes bleed, onions no longer strive,
And the cucumber rises on vinegared wings.

O cucumber! Live again in my daughters,
And make your waters my sons to revive.
O crown with salad days our queens and kings!