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Recipe For Poem

Updated on September 28, 2011

There’s a poem sitting inside my fridge.

I put it there, hoping it would sprout

a few shoots of poetic intent like the

Onion I found that had quite unobtrusively planted

itself and was thriving in its mesh metal basket.

I condemned my poor onion to a quiet grave of black plastic

A vague thought of someday composting a eulogy

But what to do with my poem, sitting so quietly

in its tupperware binding blindly staring back at me?

(It has no eyes) but could still follow the unfortunate onion.

My poem blinks a couplet (Perhaps I should give it eyes?)

Wondering if it will be grilled today aside the prosidy and stance

Or sautéed with a wry twist of lemon and splashes of measure and thyme.

Do I serve it with density and potatoes?

Or on a fresh bed of aragula nestled snugly against

a heap of consonance cluster.

My poem winks (it now has eyes)

Slyly suggesting that it might be better in the morning

served with poached eggs and a glass of

freshly squeezed sibilants.

My poem whispers (I have given it eyes so why not Voice?)

In the limited first-person punctuated by celery’s satisfying Crunch

That it may be most excellent between slices of warm

onomatopoeia with honey mustard.

I fondly contemplate the fresh green shoots springing

from my scribbled poem, and think maybe

it shouldn’t go the way of the onion

Though I am not yet sold on having it for lunch

Even if it is peppered with idiom and salted from a

shaker of scheme.

My poem now yells (I have given it lungs)

like a hot pepper plosively daring me to pop it in my mouth

But since I have not given it ears it can’t hear me

dragging out a ceramic pot and filling it with dirt

Nothing but a quick gulp of protest as it is

(somewhat unceremoniously) placed in its new home,

sprinkled with allegory from my watering can and

put in the sun until next week’s stab at syntagma.


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    • Ben Zoltak profile image

      Ben Zoltak 7 years ago from Lake Mills, Jefferson County, Wisconsin USA

      Wonderfully delicious prose Miss Baker, yum. Now, what on earth is a syntagma? A dance perhaps? It's pronunciation is ecstatically pulmonic to me.

      Best, and congrats on 40 hubs in 4 months, you're no slouch.


    • Lady_E profile image

      Elena 7 years ago from London, UK

      Ha ha. Very Funny and Unique too.

      Thanks. :)

    • Michael Adams1959 profile image

      Michael Adams1959 7 years ago from Wherever God leads us.