Ladies and gentleman, sit right down.

I'll tell you a tale of a tuber that's brown.

Rumor says you can pull these right from the ground.

They once saved the life of a man that had drowned.*

*Probably not true.

The Twenty First Potato.

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I dragged myself home from a weary work day.

I wanted to eat but had no funds to pay.

What could I eat?

What could I do?

My stomach did rumble, my misery grew.

I stopped by the market and saw a big sign.

Russet Potatoes.

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"These will serve me just fine."

I laid them out in a very long line.

A line, my dear reader, is what makes things taste fine.

I then asked the Checker how many per bag?

She raised up her eyebrow, the gnarly old hag.

"I will tell you this.... of potatoes there's plenty."

"Though there be a lot, it is no more than 20."

I took my bag home with the proudest of grins.

"With this bag of potatoes my good luck begins."

I counted them out, near the spot by the Sun.

I love counting spuds, it's a great deal of fun.

17, 18, 19 and this......

I held up my hand and my giant green fist.

I fired my joy like an elephant gun.

"You say there be 20..... I count 21!"

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