Celery – “Waste Me Not” Rasta Call
Rasta celery
The world is ailing
Says Rasta celery
The system is failing
From its herby memory
There used to be carers
Throughout my time
Now there’s more bearers
Of bad news, they almost rhyme
Rusty knives thrust
Down innocent throats
Veggies flushed, in haste
Through plastic boats
So much waste
In landfills, do we
Leave a bad taste
When you swallow
A bolus of plants
Red, green or yellow?
Lives go past
Without meaning
We’re not parts
Meant for throwing
Waste not want not
Don’t turn us into rot
Eat all that you bought
Is the celery’s sobering thought
Poem and Drawing by S. Rasa Rasika
