Song to Okra
By: Roy Blount Jr.
String bewns are good, and ripe tomatoes,
And collard greens and sweet potatoes,
Sweet corn, field peas, and squash and beets-
But when a man rears back and eats
He wants okra.
Good ole okra.
Oh wow okra, yessiree,
Okra is okay with me.
Oh okra’s favored far and wide,
Oh you can eat it boiled or fried,
Oh either slick or crisp inside,
Oh I once knew a man who died
Without okra.
Little pepper-sauce it,
Oh! I wan’ it:
Okra.
Old Homer Ogletree’s so high
On okra he keeps lots laid by.
He keeps it in a safe he locks up,
He eats so much, can’t keep his socks up.
(Which goes to show it’s no misnomer
When people call him Okra Homer.)
Okra!
Oh you can make some gumbo wit’it,
But most of all I like to git it
All by itself in its own juice,
And lying there all nice and loose-
That’s okra!
It may be poor for eating chips with,
It may be hard to come to grips with,
But okra’s such a wholesome food
It straightens out your attitude.
“Mm!” is how discerning fold respond
When they are served some okra.
Okra’s green,
Goes down with ease.
Forget cuisine,
Say “Okra, please.”
You can have strip pokra.
Give me a nice girl and a dish of okra.