Each Morn a thousand Cereals brings, you say?
Yes, but where leaves the Food of Yesterday?
And this same Grocer man that sells us Nerve
Shall take Pa’s Wheat and Mother’s Oats away.
For lo, my small Back Yard is thickly Strown
With Ki-Tee-Munch, Chew-Chew, and Postman’s Own
Where Apple-Nuts and Strength have been Forgot—
Ah, how these Papers by the Winds are Blown!
The tender Waffle hearts are Set upon
Is either Crisp or Soggy, and Anon
Like Maple Syrup made of corn and Cobs
Lasts but a scant Five Minutes, and is Gone.
I often think that never gets so Red
My flower-like Nose as when I’ve just been Fed
And after Breakfast, in the Glass I look,
And never Fail to Wish that I were dead.
And this faint Sallow Place upon my Mien—
How came it There? From that fair Coffee Bean?
Ah, take the Glass away! Make Haste unless
You want to see my Whole Complexion green.
When I was Younger, I did oft Frequent
The Married Bunch, and heard Great Argument
About the Fearful Price of Eggs, and How
To get a Dollar’s Work out of a Cent.
And when I asked them of their Recompense,
What did they Get for Keeping Down Expense—
Oh, many a cup of Coffee, Steaming Hot,
Must drown the Memory of their Insolence!
If I were Married ’t would be my Desire
To get up Every Morn and Build the Fire
For fear my Husband should use Kerosene,
And, without warning, be transported Higher.
Ah, with the Coffee all my Years provide!
Its chemicals may turn me green Inside,
But all my Fears are Scattered to the Winds
When o’er the fragrant Pot I can Preside.
I blame our Mother Eve, who did mistake
Her Job, and flirted Somewhat with the Snake,
For all the Errors of the Flaky Roll,
For all the Terrors of the Buckwheat Cake.