Ode to a Corn Muffin

Let us now praise,
on this glorious morn,
the state muffin of Massachusetts,
which is made out of corn.


It seems strange to eat
for breakfast a vegetable–
To me the very idea
is not too delegetable.

How corn muffins achieved
their current high estate
is a tale in itself
about the corrupt Bay State.


Every spring kids troop
up Beacon Hill
to the Golden-Domed State House,
for some legislative thrills.

They draft a bill,
and send it to their rep
or to their senator,
if they’re really adept.


The distinguished solon
takes the thing to the clerk,
then his or her colleagues
do what passes for work.

They read it three time–
only two wouldn’t do!
And then they deliberate
until they are through.

Now comes time to vote
on the choice of state muffin
and the kids can only hope
that they don’t end up with nuthin’.


Their hopes will be dashed,
and their day quite spoiled,
if somebody else manages
to get the legal wheels oiled.

There’s always a chance,
and it ain’t slim or none
That another class of students
will instead be the one

That lobbies for bran,
or even blueberry
to rule the state’s diners
from Springfield to Newbury.

And so in the well of the
House there’s maneuverin’.
The least little crumb
the chamber is hooverin’.


There’s open debate,
and procedural motions,
enough hot air
to evaporate an ocean.

When all’s said and done
the kids who prevailed
were the ones who remembered
to bring dough in pails

To grease the skids
and cross the palms
of the Gentleman from Orange
or maybe Annisquam.

And so lessons are learned
by the children who cry:
We have the best government
that money can buy.


4 thoughts on “Ode to a Corn Muffin

    1. Thanks. Blogging really is strange. I post stuff without even thinking about it, this one I hesitated thinking it’s bad even for my bad poetry–which is saying something. Instead it’s getting a lot of likes and views. Poetry is mysterious.

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