Round about the tree stump go,
Ingredients within it stow!
Statuette of angel toss,
Without a hand, for it was lost,
A picture that was made of corks,
and rubber-banded, unmatched forks.
A picture of a former love,
in the tree stump try to shove–
with skin a most unnatural hue,
and eyes a jarring, neon blue,
A plaintive stare out of a scene
conceived by artist Margaret Keane
Add a rabbit, made of shell–
throw it in, then cook it well.
Thicken this unwholesome brine
With a harlequin, or mime.
ill-wrought plaster in the shape
of a clown without a jape–
White face, red nose, painted cheek,
there must be thirty-six this week.
Large of shoe and wide of ruff,
Grab a few, we’ve got enough.
Add a cat without a tail,
add a broken, useless scale,
jagged stem of broken glass,
art projects from a third-grade class,
lid without dish, purse without strap
(Why did they donate this crap?)
Flavored oil now, just a drop,
from a long-abandoned shop.
A clever blend of fruits and weeds,
maybe insects, maybe seeds,
carrots, fennel, apples, dill,
an ancient, long-expired swill.
lemon slices, bits of wood,
clearly labelled “not for food”
Made in China, and in haste,
chosen for color, not for taste.
for a flavor powerful queer,
add some, then stand o’er here.
Goodwill on 183 and Metric. Maybe this time it’ll return my call.