Lenny the Key lime tree
is most always a prick;
insists I call him Leonard,
when being a dick.
He’s skinny and scrawny,
thorny and lean;
grotesquely anti-social,
he even looks mean.
“If you expect,” he says,
“to get some of these,
then prune me, water me;
I’ll give what I please.”
“Hey, come move me!
I need lots of light!”
the thorny bastard barks,
till I get it just right.
What the hell, Leonard?
Why always so dour?
“Duh, dumb ass. It’s what
makes the limes sour.”