Jell-O Mold

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How it glistens in the candles’ glow,
the star of every luncheon plate.
Who is it who could ever say no

to the salad dealt to her by fate?
With mayonnaise from a crystal dish
too elegant to contemplate–

the flavors of lime and tuna fish
meet at last, in quivering embrace.
What more could any hostess wish

than to see such joy on every face?

 

 

For NaPoWriMo, Day 15.

 

 

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Luncheon

Now I am a sandwich loaf
frosted in cream cheese,
with mushrooms and small
tiles of ham. Now I am the
ham, or else I’m still the pig,
caged and oblivious. Now
I am a duck among thousands
starving on the lake ice, or
one of hundreds fishing
in the river water. Now I
am the fish, swimming in
the river or lying on a platter,
a new face drawn over my
old face, in cream cheese
or mayonnaise. Now I am
lighting the candles. Now I
wait for my guests. I will
serve them what I have,
what I was, what I am.

 

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Frost Free

and filled with distinction:
a standing rib roast
a rack of lamb

minted chicken salad
clams Hollandaise
and some entire beast

en croûte.

Here are all the
edible creatures
of land and sky

and sea. The exterior
is seafoam green and all
cool reassurance of

permanent plenty,
banishment of want—
everything that was
needed and not had,

now procured,
secured,
safe.

 

 

PAD Challenge prompt: ____ free. If it’s Tuesday p.m., be sure to check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

 

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