Tomato said, one sunny day, that all red foods must go.
and any eating red would pay, would feel his wrath and woe.
Tomato’s followers agreed, upheld his word as law.
They banned the sale of ruddy seeds and called red food bourgeois.
The storm, it spread so fast and far it echoed ‘round the globe.
Some called Tomato’s rule bizarre, some called for further probe.
But Tomato’s fans, all loyal, true, were rabid in their calling.
all who dared red food to chew were labeled rude, appalling.
The red-food eaters soon amassed a red-food chewing army.
and called Tomato’s “no-red” caste ridiculous and smarmy.
And so the food wars soon began, each side indignant, furious.
Red-food chewers and the no-red clan, each claimed the other spurious.
The battles raged, the war destroyed as wars are wont to do.
The casualties? Innocents devoid of either point of view.
Until at last, with death toll high, and all war-crimes excusing,
they signed for peace, that all allied could eat food of their choosing.
The news and pundits praised them all as fine, praiseworthy diplomats,
a shiny, new for-peace cabal, the first of new aristocrats.
How soon the memory seems to fade with scant enough distraction
ridiculous the war charade rewards the warring factions.
And, never doubt, before too long a fresh revolting practice
or new religious law prolongs antagonistic fracas.
Poetic Asides April 5, 2015, Poem-a-day challenge.