Butter, butter, margarine, butter,
How you set my heart a flutter,
You make my lips stumble and stutter,
Even when clearing out the kitchen clutter.
There is a great clatter,
Leaving the room all in a tatter,
Now you’re confused because of the latter.
Jumping and twisting and turning around,
Until we fall upon the ground,
Once there we make a great sound,
Lying atop the burial mound.
If this is morbid I don’t give one wit,
My love for you will never quit.
I think this is easily the most entertaining poem I’ve written so far. Well, with the exception of An Ode to Star Trek (that one was pure nonsense). But, this one seems to strike so much deeper. At the surface it looks like a happy little ditty. Looking past the first few passages though, it becomes rather dark. Of course, I’m not going to tell you how to read the poem. I want to see if you came to the same conclusions I did.