Another Ode to Kitchen Appliances
oh! I just realized something! I no longer only write poems that are about boys! *pats herself on back* good job home-girl.
my blender does not understand
smoothies
“Accept My Gift of Pineapple
Thy Foul Beast!”
this is a blood sacrifice
and she is sadly unreceptive
I begin the main course
I have cupboards full of words
See-Jane-Runs
quick brown foxes
I have half a mind (no, three-fourths of a mind)
to sauté them
into
the golden eggs
more difficult to crack
than I had thought they would be
(forge? My stove doesn’t get
hot enough,
I think)
I will spice the adjectives with
madness
I will verb these nouns
throw in a voodoo doll or
tulips! Two! Lips!
Crack open a maraca
and sell you some rhythm
Oh you will love this
you will devour this
You will get up and dance to this
I think
I do not understand
cooking
troutpasta 