Ode to a Potato
– Peter Goldsworthy

O practical
potato,

vegetable
most like earth,

among elegant asparagus,
intellectual zucchini,

you are unpretentiously
spud.

Tasting only like stone,
you have nothing to hide,

are merely functional,
a most puritanical root.

O wave your green flags,
democratic potato

you are the equal
of any other

potato.

Nursery Rhyme

Never tease a weevle
Not even once or twice
The weevle will not like it
And teasing isn’t nice.

The Vodka Song
– James Swanson (Davey Gamm Esq. of the King’s Shilling)

Here’s my brother Nikolai, he has a big nose
Here’s my brother Ivan, he wears the panty hose
We don’t agree on everything by this much we know
The best drink in the world is made from the po-ta-toe

(chorus)
We make the drink from the potatoe
We haven’t the grain to spare
Whiskey is nice but vodka is best
When you want to get impared

Potates are a vegtable, they grow under the soil
You store them in the cellar and they hardly ever spoil
They are so very popular they grow in every nation
They are consumed by the people of every rank and station.

I once met a fellow who was a good Swede
I traded him some vodka for a shot of Aquavit
They had the right idea, but I don’t know how they do it
They did alright on color, but on taste they really blew it.

In Ireland they like them boiled, in France they like them fried
Salt and pepper, butter, oooh! They are so good in side
In Poland thye like them baked, in England they are mashed
We make it into liquid that will really get you smashed.

Private Idaho
by the B-52’s

Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo
You’re living in your own Private Idaho
Living in your own Private Idaho
Underground like a wild potato.
Don’t go on the patio.
Beware of the pool,
blue bottomless pool.
It leads you straight
right throught the gate
that opens on the pool.

You’re living in your own Private Idaho.
You’re living in your own Private Idaho.

Keep off the path, beware the gate,
watch out for signs that say “hidden driveways”.
Don’t let the chlorine in your eyes
blind you to the awful surprise
that’s waitin’ for you at
the bottom of the bottomless blue blue blue pool.

You’re livin in your own Private Idaho. Idaho.
You’re out of control, the rivers that roll,
you fell into the water and down to Idaho.
Get out of that state,
get out of that state you’re in.
You better beware.

You’re living in your own Private Idaho.
You’re living in your own Private Idaho.

Keep off the patio,
keep off the path.
The lawn may be green
but you better not be seen
walkin’ through the gate that leads you down,
down to a pool fraught with danger
is a pool full of strangers.

You’re living in your own Private Idaho,
where do I go from here to a better state than this.
Well, don’t be blind to the big surprise
swimming round and round like the deadly hand
of a radium clock, at the bottom, of the pool.

I-I-I-daho
I-I-I-daho
Woah oh oh woah oh oh woah oh oh
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Get out of that state
Get out of that state
You’re living in your own Private Idaho,
livin in your own Private Idaho.

Colcannon
traditional

Did you ever eat Colcannon, made from lovely pickled cream?
With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream.
Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the melting flake
Of the sweet and creamy butter that your mother used to make?

CHORUS
Oh you did, so you did, so did he, and so did I.
And the more I think about it sure the nearer I’m to cry.
Oh, weren’t those the happy days when troubles we had not,
And our mothers made Colcannon in the little skillet pot.

Did you ever take potato cake and boxty to your school,
Tucked underneath your oxter with your book, your slate, and rule?
And when the teacher wasn’t looking sure a great big bite you’d take,
Of the sweet and creamy, soft and meltin’ sweet potato cake.

CHORUS

Did you ever go a-courting when the evening sun went down,
And the moon began a-peeping from behind the Hill o’Down?
As you wandered down the boreen where the leprechaun was seen,
And you whispered loving phrases to your own dear sweet colleen

Potato
by the Alex F-C

O potato
I love you so.

I love to see your
Sensuous peels
As they fall
Into the sink.

How your skin is brown
Yet your innards are
So pale
Like paper.

You are delicious
Mashed, boiled and baked
How I love you
With sour cream.

No other vegetable
Compares to you.
I love you so
My sweet potato.

Would you like to sing the Potato’s praise?
Please notify me

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