A cast iron skillet,
(I’m doing cornbread variations this year.)
An electric water boiler for morning coffee.
Curtains for my bedroom,
(On days off, I’d like to see the sun later not sooner.)
Six-packs of chili – Denison’s, Stagg -- any bean type,
(Chili never goes out of style.)
Good and solid socks, dark and uniform – and ones that don’t ball up into black linen chunks and clog the dryer.
My mind has not the inclination for the asking
For World peace, or any less of strife,
And though the Sudanese could use a break this Christmas,
They are probably not the type that wants the fix.
(And it’s best to let the gods play to the finish,
Omnipotence is jealous at its best.)
Bacon’s good, but not as good as Crisco,
Yet Granny’s biscuit’s might require both,
I still don’t want a microwave, they’re ugly,
But an iron cornbread muffin mold is nice.
My father’s praise, but not so much my mother’s
Though my mother knows me better than he does,
My father knows me like I know my children
But a son and mother are mostly just the one.
Mike Brady 2010