Oh for vegetables that taste of fish and chips

Genetic engineering, Frightening words we should embrace, For in the scheme of things to come They’ll surely have their place. Now we’re eating tomatoes Not their normal rosy hue But orange, yellow and, well I never, Now there’s purple, too. Brussels sprouts are modified, That’s a fact you cannot differ, Today they’re so much sweeter, Not windy, harsh or bitter. Red hot radishes burn your tongue And are extremely hard, They’ll soon be long, soft and white — You’ll buy them by the yard. Spuds crossed with coconuts And when the shell you smash Out comes, hot and creamy, The most delicious mash. Imagine a self-peeling onion, Weep-free, crisp and white, The look on your face as you bite it, Will be one of sheer delight. Black cherries as big as peaches, Of huge stones there’ll be loads, Imagine what we could do with them . . . Fill potholes in the roads? Orchards will be obsolete; Lands freed with one tree to a field, Resistant to all known diseases, Perfect fruit by the ton it will yield. They’ll grow humongous walnuts Afterits cells, fiddling about with And you’ll hey have,— voila! — look what Cradles made from shells! And those dreaded inoculations Will finally get the boot, We’ll ingest the drugs we daily need, Along with our five-a-day fruit. DNA altered fish scales It appears now hold the key To mending arthritic stricken joints In ankle, hip and knee. Beauty salons will be no more, Please listen — I do not jest, We’ll choose to revert to the year we know We looked our very best. Some of this sounds scary, But for me it can’t come too soon, I want to live forever young, Still dancing to my tune. So bring on the day when the humble cabbage Tastes of fish and chips And I can eat as much as I like Without larding up my hips!

Joy James, Nottingham.