Umm, yeah. So I just wrote a love poem with philosophical undertones. It's about butter.


There once was a young girl named Kat
who sedulously avoided all fat
'til one day she stuttered
and ate muffins buttered
and then on could never go back.

"Other products," she muttered,
"I believed they were butter!
'cause 'fore now I just did not see
that between their square pats
sprawled ontological gaps--
a crisis in food honesty."

"No pale immitaions,
hydrogenizations,
or otherwise bald signifiers
will heretofore slather
my good baked-up batter
the noumenon only shall please."



I don't have a title yet; but I'm kicking around "On Butter; A Procrastinatory Meditation," and "Put Down That Muffin and Get Back to Work. Fatty." Let me know if you have a preference.