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The Pickle Poem 
There once was a man from Pickle-donia, whose favorite kind was a dill 
He's eaten about a million jars and he's not tired of 'em; he likes 'em still 
The juice is a little salty, and it's color a shade of green 
He once ran across a giant one, it was the biggest he'd ever seen 
My gosh that is one big Vlassic 
Destined to become a classic 
To be talked about for years to come 
Boring for certain people, but fascinating to some 
Time has passed and I sometimes wonder about that pickle and it's fate 
Is it living happily every after? or was it on that hamburger that I just ate? 
The end. ;-) 
All material herein (C)2010 Kevin Venator