Ok so, yeah. So a friend and I have been talking about writing and I (foolishly) bemoaned my lame ass attempts at writing. And then he gave me homework to write a thing. So I wrote a thing. It’s kind of meant to be a spoken word style poem, but even then I’m not sure how good it is. I don’t say this in false humility; I am an English teacher and know what literature is an isn’t, and I know my limitations. But, regardless, here I offer up a thing I wrote.
I’ve been thinking about s’mores.
And how they hold an elusive charm
Of lost youth and sugar-induced idealism.
The things we want in life are encapsulated
In sweet, salty, smoky s’mores:
Richness and depth;
Sweetness, balanced by neutrality and a touch of salt.
But they never tell you about the dirt and char
That surprises you with its ill-timed bitterness;
How the sweetness is too cloying;
The richness is not evenly spread but instead sits like a lump
Either too early to be appreciated
Or too late to be enjoyed.
But the thing about s’mores that you need to know, is that they are magic.
In an instant they transport us
From a jaded adulthood to a childhood where we can build the layers of our life.
The promise of perfection
If we can only balance the parts
That together make a whole worth living.
The richness and depth;
The all too sweet edged with char. Too much, but too soon gone;
And the base, the mundane, the part that is most boring but most important.
The centre and balance to a too sweet, too bitter, too intense life.
So never forget the graham crackers.