Season of the garlic scape

Here they come
chatting and gawking
touching and sniffing
pulling and binding

Next thing you know I’ll be in a pretentious basket
on display at some forced farmers market stand
naked and twisted
next to the purple basil
flowers still intact
silently screaming

Oh, the life of an “exotic” plant
Will it be the blades of your dull knife
or the char of your fancy grill that spells my demise?
Or will I just be forgotten in the bottom of your crisper
Another victim of on-trend seasonal shopping

When will my 15 minutes be over?
Please, I implore you, just go back
to your avocado toast

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