Herbs, garlic, <br />cheese, please let me in! <br />Souffles, salad, <br />Parker House rolls, <br />please let me in! <br />Cook Helen, <br />why are you so cross, <br />why is your kitchen verboten? <br />Couldn't you just teach me <br />to bake a potato, <br />to bake a potato, <br />that charm, <br />that young prince? <br />No! No! <br />This is my county! <br />You shout silently. <br />Couldn't you just show me <br />the gravy. How you drill it out <br />of the stomach of that bird? <br />Helen, Helen, <br />let me in, <br />let me feel the flour, <br />is it blinding and frightening, <br />this stuff that makes cakes? <br />Helen, Helen, <br />the kitchen is your dog <br />and you pat it <br />and love it <br />and keep it clean. <br />But all these things, <br />all these dishes of things <br />come through the swinging door <br />and I don't know from where? <br />Give me some tomato aspic, Helen! <br />I don't want to be alone.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fury-of-cooks/
