Grainful Harvests

The Ballad of Joaquin Quinoa

with a nod to Stephen Vincent Benét

When Joaquin Quinoa took a town,
He scorned its banks and bars.
He shot the dry goods store a frown
And poked at sacks and jars.

He eyed big barrels full of rice,
Thumped tubs of mealy flour,
Then growled, "More protein's my advice.
I'll be back in an hour."

As sure as rain, his wagon train
Rolled up, and Joaquin's crew
Began to fill the store with grain
Imported from Peru.

"Nutrition is my mission," he
Intoned, cocking his hat.
"My vitamin-rich (B and E)
Seeds knock your old maize flat."

When clerks protested he was cruel
To visit such attacks,
Joaquin laughed, "Think so? Next time, fool,
It's amaranth or flax."

"Your quinoa, Joaquin, makes me melt,"
The ranchers' daughters cooed.
"It beats your wheatgrass and your spelt,"
He grinned. "Them blades is crude."

The sheriffs asked for pilafs free.
Said Joaquin, "Be my guest."
And that's how quinoa came to be
The gruel that won the West.

by Dan Campion
in volume 5 issue 1

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