Posts Tagged ‘america’
Sonnet VI
Some chefs have reached a level quite elite,
But I can’t say that I am one of those;
In every dish their skillful talent shows,
While anything I make just tastes like feet.
I tend to burn all sauces, eggs and meat,
(Though chicken comes out pinker than a rose);
My soup and sandwich sucks, my salad blows,
Desserts look like I scraped them off the street.
But there’s one food I make that’s not a crime, In fact it’s something many people want; Word that my toasted rings are so sublime, Has spread from California to Vermont; Come taste them and you’ll too realize that I’m An onion bagel idiot savant.
But there’s one food I make that’s not a crime, In fact it’s something many people want; Word that my toasted rings are so sublime, Has spread from California to Vermont; Come taste them and you’ll too realize that I’m An onion bagel idiot savant.
18
07 2009
The Competitor
His belly is unbeatable
His titles, all repeatable
There’s not a bagel in this world
that he would find uneatable
He needs not to bite off the crust You’ll never see him cough or fuss He bypasses his teeth and sends them straight to his esophagus
Dunks each ring in the water Wins all bouts by a slaughter And even with his onion breath he makes out with your daughter
The victor in the square again The answer to each prayer we send Our bagel eating champion makes us proud to be American
He needs not to bite off the crust You’ll never see him cough or fuss He bypasses his teeth and sends them straight to his esophagus
Dunks each ring in the water Wins all bouts by a slaughter And even with his onion breath he makes out with your daughter
The victor in the square again The answer to each prayer we send Our bagel eating champion makes us proud to be American
04
07 2009
Enlightening the World, One Bite at a Time
This bagel sitting before me,
is better than I’ll ever be;
For I’m a statue, so lazy,
just watching refuse on TV;
Yet it smells sweet and oniony,
and offers up this guarantee:
“Bring to me all your hungry, your twisted tummies too achy; I lift my lamp for these to see a tasty way to set thee free!”
“Bring to me all your hungry, your twisted tummies too achy; I lift my lamp for these to see a tasty way to set thee free!”
25
01 2009
Praise Song for the Bagel, A Poem for Watching Barack Obama’s Presidential Inauguration on TV
Each morning we go and do our business,
we flush and we jump in the shower
or not, drying and then dressing.
All inside us is hunger. All inside us is pang and rumble, yearn and ache, we long for something touching our tongues.
Someone is scrambling an egg, boiling water for coffee, Popping a Tart, heating the things that taste better hot.
A woman in a hairnet waits on tables. A line cook examines the melting butter. A hostess says Please. Let me seat you now.
Say it plain: that many have slaved over this meal. Sing the names of those who brought it here, who plowed the fields, planted the crops,
picked the onions and the wheat, kneaded batch by batch the glorious dough they would then roll into perfect little rings.
Praise song for the bakers, praise song for the meal. Praise song for every boiled little bite, the chewing-it-up at kitchen tables.
Some live by you are what you eat, others by an apple a day keeps the doctor away. But what if the mightiest food is bagels?
Praise song for getting something in our stomachs.
All inside us is hunger. All inside us is pang and rumble, yearn and ache, we long for something touching our tongues.
Someone is scrambling an egg, boiling water for coffee, Popping a Tart, heating the things that taste better hot.
A woman in a hairnet waits on tables. A line cook examines the melting butter. A hostess says Please. Let me seat you now.
Say it plain: that many have slaved over this meal. Sing the names of those who brought it here, who plowed the fields, planted the crops,
picked the onions and the wheat, kneaded batch by batch the glorious dough they would then roll into perfect little rings.
Praise song for the bakers, praise song for the meal. Praise song for every boiled little bite, the chewing-it-up at kitchen tables.
Some live by you are what you eat, others by an apple a day keeps the doctor away. But what if the mightiest food is bagels?
Praise song for getting something in our stomachs.
