Friday, March 19, 2010

Mere Words Can't Describe How I Feel, But That Won't Stop Me From Trying


corndogs, o corndogs

i tremble with delight, longing to devour you
i fear sleepless fits as dusk draws nigh
i am restless in my anticipation
of your glistening and stick-perched beauty

from your bath of hot oil
to my awaiting lips

your composition

is not
can not
will not


be known

various parts of exotic animals
a whole far greater than the sum
the mystery of your origin
only intensifies your allure

corndogs, o corndogs
be you ten, or twenty, dare I dream fifty

tomorrow we shall be as one

6 comments:

Niamh B said...

There just aren't enough corn dog poems in the world, I always say.

The Dead Acorn said...

I think that I shall never blog,
A poem as lovely as a corndog.

Domestic Oub said...

This post is deliberate attempt to taunt me due to my intense corndog envy!!! Sigh! We have McDonals. Justin Timberlake. Glee. Why can we not have CORNDOGS??!?! WHYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy????

The Dead Acorn said...

Well, yeah! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?

We worry, don't you know.

I'm going to do my best to get you a corndog, deepfried western-idaho-fair style, but you have to tell me that justin timberlake isn't popular over there.

Please

Domestic Oub said...

Ah, we all hate him, completely.

amber said...

Dead Acorn:

That's what she said.

Love,
a certain dragon