Guacamole

How did guacamole come to be? 
Perhaps some careless caveman
Rolled his long-sought wheel
Over a helpless avocado
And found the results pleasing—
A finger in the good green goo.
Who knew to add the lemon juice
To keep the verde in the dip?
Did they try milk initially,
Or fermented honey or beer?
Perhaps they salted the mess,
Or tried to dry it out over a fire.
The point is—it was an experiment,
Humans acting upon Nature,
Same as a strip mall, or an atomic bomb,
Only with a bright face and a funny name
Which my stoner friend Terry
(now an investment banker)
Could never recall when we’d haul
Ourselves to Taco Hut on a munchie run,
And he’s always ask for “that green shit,”
His eyes slitted, tomato-red,
And when the bemused clerk asked, “Guacamole?”
Terry would grow grave and thoughtful.
“Is that the green shit?” he’d ask,
And so it was, and so—no matter
Its origins—it shall ever be.