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Ode to Black Truffle Salt (or, Why I tend to stick with prose rather than poetry)

*advances to microphone, taps it* Are we on? Okay. *Adjusts beret*

 

Ode to Black Truffle Salt

by Amanda Helms

I love you, black truffle salt, and it’s

ALL YOUR FAULT!

Sprinkling you on foodstuffs I

CAN NOT HALT!

(two word “can not” deliberate for emphasis of meter)

 

I love you on corn that is popped,

On fish I have caught

(…from the shelf at the grocery store),

On eggs that are hot,

And on yet more foods–

Quite a lot!

 

Without you, black truffle salt,

My life would be DIRE!

If I said I hated you

My face’d be a LIAR!

I would save you if

My house were on FIRE!

 

You are somewhat expensive, it’s true.

But, sans vous, I’d be blue.

So I think I’ll go on

Saving for, paying for,

And consuming

You.

 

*bows, waits for applause*

 

Heckler: You suck!

… Philistine.

 

Postscript: In my at-home life, I haven’t written poetry since my poetry class in college nearly ten years ago. But for the day job, I actually have unleashed my poetic prowess. (Seriously. It’s an educational publisher, and sometimes our curricula has called for elementary-aged poetry. I can’t post it, because I don’t own the rights, as it was written for the company. But “Ode to Black Truffle Salt”? All. Mine. Mwa ha ha ha ha!) It’s why they pay me the big bucks.*

*If, by “big bucks,” one means “a salary that is more or less that of the average US employee.”

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • Kelly November 3, 2013, 10:43 am

    *snap* *snap*