Thanksgiving. Christmas. The times of
succulent steaming solution: a Mashed Potato Medley.
Potatoes, mashed; vegetables, assorted; turkey, baked
The magic of dinner is all I need; I sit and salivate as it cooks.
The long wait, a culinary curse, a penalty earned for learning
the edible language of holiday meals.
It is served, I scoop it; it flows almost immediately upwards on forks and knives.
Words sometimes do, too. Like schadenfreude and elwetridsche.
Long, many-syllabled strings of unpronounceable letters,
which I twist, trip over, and test again and again.
In the boisterous setting of the holiday
Mealtime of the Mashed Potato Medley.
succulent steaming solution: a Mashed Potato Medley.
Potatoes, mashed; vegetables, assorted; turkey, baked
The magic of dinner is all I need; I sit and salivate as it cooks.
The long wait, a culinary curse, a penalty earned for learning
the edible language of holiday meals.
It is served, I scoop it; it flows almost immediately upwards on forks and knives.
Words sometimes do, too. Like schadenfreude and elwetridsche.
Long, many-syllabled strings of unpronounceable letters,
which I twist, trip over, and test again and again.
In the boisterous setting of the holiday
Mealtime of the Mashed Potato Medley.
Thanks! This is the poem that I wrote for the "Grape Sherbet" collages we did, but I was absent on the due date.
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