Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ode to Oatmeal

We decided to write odes at our writing group meeting tonight. I wrote an

Ode to Oatmeal

O oatmeal,
you simplest
of foods,
you most unassuming
nutritious
victual,
you shy,
naked,
quivering
bowl of mush.
How insulting
your properties
sound!
But how essential
you are,
quietly nourishing
entire generations
and their children's children's children.

O oatmeal,
you never asked
to be dressed up
in apple-sugar
and paraded in boxes
through 10-Items-Or-Less lanes
at Vonn's, Albertson's or Safeway
by soccer moms
with false eyelashes
and purses they can't afford,
by college students,
pulling crumpled dollar bills,
one
by
one,
out of front jeans pockets.
No, you gnashed
your teeth
and cringed
and sighed
the day they shook
maple flakes into you
and put you in
plastic-lined
brown paper packets,
hermetically sealed
by the crimper
at the end of the
assembly line.

If you had your way,
o oatmeal,
you'd only be
sold in bulky
cylinders,
with
"rolled oats"
humbly printed
in plain Arial font
on the label.

O oatmeal,
you would be
satisfied
to live your
life
out among the
heather,
beneath a cloudy
sky,
the shepherd's fiery-haired wife
slowly bringing
you
to
a boil,
in her cream-colored
sweater,
wouldn't you?

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