Picklin' Polly Oh, my golly She pickled everything. Food submerged In vinegar - She loved the tangy zing. A maestro of the salty brine, Polly pickled melon rinds. Then veggies, eggs, and piggy legs - One hundred pickle kegs. She tried it with banana. She tried it with baboons. She carried jars and juice around Like a pickling buffoon. But you know how these obsessions go. Yes, Polly went too far. This sour story ends with Polly In the pickle jar. On a shelf down in the cellar, Polly's ever staring back. She may just last forever As a savory bottled snack. -B.C. Byron
I like to write poems about things escalating and going too far. Take an everyday hobby and see the weird places it could go if someone turned that hobby into an obsession. Hobbies should have limits so you don’t end up filling your entire house with odd collectibles, or end up preserved in your own pickling jars. I’ve met people who take a hobby like running too far and end up spending all their free time doing nothing else. I’ve seen card game collectors spend entire paychecks on booster packs. Don’t be like Polly the Pickler. If your pastime takes up ALL your time, it’s not fun or healthy anymore.
On the topic of pickles: I like pickles, but some things really don’t need to be pickled. Pigs feet? Why? There’s nearly half an isle of pickled things at the grocery store these days and even the plain-old cucumber pickles come in about 50 varieties. I’ve even seen chocolate pickles. No thanks. I’ll just stick to my dills and kimchi. Of all the pickled things in the world, Korean kimchi is the best. If you haven’t tried it, you haven’t lived.
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