Ode to My Crock Pot

Ode to My Crock Pot

Ode to My Crock Pot

Mrs. BurgerDogBoy said I should do this – she’s starting to worry about me and this thing…

Ode to My Crock Pot

Oh gleaming hunk of ceramic and tin

Can’t wait for your contents to dribble down my chin

My wife instructed me to write this to thee,

She said “you may love it even more than me!”

“Nay,” I said, a thousand times nay,

Love something fashioned from inanimate clay

That sits around and silently performs its task?

Good god woman, do you have to ask?

One hour, two hours, three hours pass,

I can peer down on deliciousness, right thru the glass

Bubbling portions of veggies and meat

Just a few more hours for my delicious treat!

Oh automaton of the cooking world

I can’t talk right now, my tongue just curled

My mouth it does squirt, as I wait for the ding

And your heaping mess o good hotness, forth you bring.

I have accepted as I have grown older, I can do without

But I’m not talking to you, crock pot, I said with a pout

You and I are forever wed

I wish there was an outlet, next to the bed.

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