What Is This Thing in My Salad?

—An Unfortunate Poem

What is this thing in my salad?
Sans texture and fiber and crunch
I thought you’d be the perfect choice
For a healthy autumn lunch

I know you’re not radicchio,
Arugula, endive, or beets
Not pumpkin seeds or crispy peas
Sun-ripened fruit or other treats

I expected some glazed pecans
To allay all of my worst fears
Even baby corn, a newborn
To eat whole without any ears

What is this thing in my salad?
I would say its more of a wisp
Like celery strings, it tends to cling
To dressing, more flaccid than crisp

What was that thing in my salad?
A bit sick from this whole affair
Done with my lunch, thanks a whole bunch
For a salad, replete with your hair

Mona S Gable