Origins

When the ancient gods sat down at their crystal table
To give the people voice
A very old man
Stood up in the back
And said
"We must have a word that rhymes with mother
So people can write sappy family poems."
That's why
I have no brothers
Instead of no broccolis.

When Demeter rose from the great earth
To tell her farmers of these gifts she had given
A little farmhand aproached her, timidly,
And said
"Please, ma'am, give us a word
Which don't rhyme with anything at all
To confound the poets
And make ours the most baffling trade."
Which is why
I only liked steamed broccoli
And not steamed brother.

When the street cats and street dogs
clambered from the gutters and doorways
To give their masters
Words to command with
A very small kitten called out
Softly
"Let's have a word 
Which means something else
To confuse my master
And let me get away."
Which is why
My dad tells me yarns
And not Very Long Stories With Utterly No Meaning That Make Me Want To Scream.

When all the people
Gathered together
To sort out the problems
Of the human tongue
A little girl
Tugged on her mother's arm
And said
"Let's have a word for everyone."
And so
We don't have strong, inexplicable feelings of longing and pain
We have love.