Kitchen Sonnet
One evening, as I was making a chicken sandwich, I suddenly
thought it might be a good idea to make you want to love your
kitchen as much as I did once, back when all was shiny, coppery,
and new, when pots and pans had not been ruined by a series
of slovenly house guests who were not only sloppy about taking
care of utensils but failed to clean (ever!) the apartment or water
the plants you whispered to so tenderly as you ministered to their
needs, watering them two or three times a week and each month
loosening the earth about their roots, getting whole fingers down
there into the dirt, breaking things up, letting in air and light.
So, after replacing all the destroyed cooking ware, I began to
make unreasonable demands when it came to our meals: I said,
“Let’s provide calorie info for all our meals. Let’s cut carbs.
Let’s eliminate all trans-fats. Let’s start reducing our sauces.”
Hal
Halvard Johnson
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