Ode to a dirty pineapple

There are different kinds of french classes, but most people agree that the most profitable kinds are the ones spent in the canteen with a like-minded crazy friend writing crazy poetry....this is the product of one such profitable french class....

Ode to a Dirty Pineapple

Oh Crown of fruits!
Thy spiky green things
Captivate my fluttering heart.
My reason is impaled
Upon those oh-so-sharp spikes.

The hardness of thy heart
May fool the unworthy
The toughness of your hide
May deter the cowardly
But I plough on- chew on, I say
For chewing
is good for the gums.
To reach the sweet juiciness
Of my one true fruit

The cylindricality of thy form
Haunts my dreams
Making me salivate
Upon my Superman Nightshirt

But alas!
The freshness of thy youth
Was snatched away by the maid;
Under the merciless glint
Of the shiny stainless steel kitchen knife
Thy short existence
Was snuffed out;
Like a candle in the wind
And so was my heart

My agony!
When in the morning
I found thy slices
Thrown in the garbage bin
Covered with dirt, grime
And an old banana peel.

Thy once luscious crown
of green, clean, spiny leaves
Now lies rotting under yesterdays potato salad

How I long for a taste
Of thy sweet succulent interior!
One last chew is all I ask!

But those days are gone now.
They will never be.
Now you are king of another realm
Where I cannot follow yet.
( As I am not a fruit,
And I am not dead)

But as the wise say,
"Move on, chum!
Find yourself another fruit!"
And to the neighbourhood fruit market I go
Battle through the ravaging crowds
And then I see……The Apple!!!