Ode to a Kosher Dill

Tonight's a first.
I made a promise.
She is going to seduce my palate, pallet, palette ...
With a kosher dill ... pickle.
I've never eaten a kosher dill before, or even a regular dill for that matter.
I have been pickle deprived all my life.
But that will change tonight, but I already said that,
A dill, a kosher dill.
Briny, salty, sour, what, what, what?
Don't tell her, but I'm kind of excited, but scared too.
I'm tempted to go eat one now, as a warm-up, just to see if I really want to eat
A kosher dill for real.
It's strange though, you know.
My father, his name was Dill, well actually Dillard,
But they called him Dill.
And you know, could this be some kind of ritualistic stepping out from my father's shadow, by devouring it, his shadow.
Or is it just a pickle, a kosher dill.
Yeah, that's all it is, just a pickle.
Just a kosher dill.
And what about the phallic implications.
I don't even want to go there.