bread

here is a poem about bread, only it is not about bread because poems are never about what they are about

mix him well

that milky, wholesome wheat,

that preserving, cleansing salt,

add some sweetness

and creeping oil.

Add the blood,

of the mixture,

straight from the stream's veins.

Form him,

mould him,

knead out the knots,

the dry spots,

make him well rounded and even.

Then just to spice it up,

add some chaos,

add some yeast.

No one likes a square,

A boring solid brick wont do,

it needs some filler,

some excitement.

Or better yet add some vice

from the last batch,

add some starter,

and watch them feed.

it only takes a little to leaven,

the whole lump.

Watch him artificially elevate,

watch him rise,

so full of hot air.

Now to seal the deal,

into the fire you go,

into the oven.

Let me sear your skin,

and harden your crust.

Let me test your heart.