My Pie Crust Fall Down?
by Francine DuBois
For Kathleen's mom
What can you do when your pastry is depressed?
There's no cheering up that dough mixture who knows
It will be forced into an oven at 400 degrees.
Condemning those rising yeast balls to a Plathian fate
Is cruel: why wouldn't they fall in a Keatsian swoon,
Yielding to the pressure of the heat and call of depression?
The change from sticky, elasticy to crispy, flaky is never easy:
It's pastry puberty--that awkward stage when the voice isn't strong
And every little tragedy explodes into tears. When pie crust falls,
You must tell it that everything will be okay
And never stop providing that unconditional love.
Pie crusts must know they are appreciated to have the strength
To stand up to the thick apple filling,
The brick-like stamina of mincemeat,
The solidness of pumpkin.
And if it should fall, remind the crust that people love cobbler just
as much as pie.
Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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