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.