I never did quite understand the potato.
Such a silly looking food staple
With an equally silly name.
If I were to be a food--
I'd like to be a thin slice of veal,
a Guiness double chocolate cake,
or even something like sesame soy flank.
Yet in the end
I'm quite just like the potato
who cannot escape its fate:
Plain and tasteless raw
But with potential of such variety
When it comes to being shaped
by a pair of weathered hands;
the chef from either above or below.
Thanks for the offer--for opening a door
One thats never existed until you.
I can smell a different world wafting through
& when I peek in, I can see all the "What Ifs..."
Yes, thanks for the offer--a wonderful one, indeed.
But I'm going to have to decline
For I've got a closet full of skeletons
Who I've got to keep inside
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