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
“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
quick brown foxes
I have half a mind (no, three-fourths of a mind)
to sauté them
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
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