Ode to a Terrine
Oh, carrot loaf
You beckon seductive
Yet almost whole
Your secrets key to your lingering loneliness
Steamed from below, ogled from above
Ultimately passed by for your
Saucier, beanier neighbor
It is your density that repels
How your surface aggressively occludes what you possibly might be,
And whoever thought you were a good idea in the first place.
What color is that anyway and why does it not recur in nature?
That green shit, sprinkled: what’s up with that?
Perhaps, instead, it is the mystery of your origin that compels the chunks in my throat,
This morning’s biscuits and gravy, to rise at your similar visage
Or is it the violence of your conception
Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays side dish, ground, shredded,
Dismembered in the Cuisinart’s indifferent maw
Tongs clenched in an overfed fist
Reach for you, tentative
Reflected by your shiny glazed blanket
Mayo and cream
Glassy as placenta
Step away from the buffet, porky
I order myself
Get your ass back to the elliptical
It is day nine of the residency and I need a laxative.