A Disquisition on Spoons

A Disquisition on Spoons

Pity the lowly spoon
His portly bowl and comical stem
Make a mockery of finesse
The roly-poly jester on the genteel lace
Looks out of place.

No one messes with the knife and fork
The King and Queen of cutlery
Silverware’s royal couple.
If the knife is D'Artagnan
And the fork is Marie Antoinette,
Then the spoon is Falstaff, the buffoon.

A knife can cut your heart out
And a fork can pierce your flesh
Weapons once
They are butcher’s tools
The rapier and the pitchfork
But thinly disguised
Tools designed for meat
Humorless, utilitarian and feared.
But the spoon?
The good natured spoon
Is of a peaceful bent, meant for
Soups and puddings and serving
The servile and humble spoon
The only way a spoon can harm us is
By loving us too much
By shoveling too much ice cream at us
Now that’s the way to go
Stuffed and fat and jolly
Dessert spoon clutched firmly in your hand
You lie belly up gasping at the ceiling
Arteries clogged, unable to breathe
As fat and round and insensate as the spoon
Itself.

What the spoon lacks in stature,
It makes up for in variety.
From baby spoon to ladle
From demitasse to table
The spoon’s mother was not the spade
As some would tell
No not the shovel but the shell
A form that nature made
Gentle smooth and round
The spoon family sends you greetings
Come and dine with us they call
Our jolly companions from cradle to grave.