Ode to My Breakfast Cereal

O granola steeped in milk

and honey O most perfect

apricot wrinkled thumbprint of the

sun float miraculous in my

2% and make my stomach

smile O crisp O crunch

of almonds fat and round

drive me nuts but not

bananas which I only like

with peanut-butter which also

comes from nuts it must

be something about the texture

the mush and gush of

gnashing into the shaft I

promise this isn’t a poem

about sex just cereal and

maybe the bowl which cups

it all fat and round

to which I press my

hungry parted seeking lips and

slurp milk flowing riverlike and

free this still is not

a poem about sex it’s

about granola soft-baked bear-

naked fruits and nuts knowledge

of god and fleeing gardens