Glob of jelly
Between some whole wheat—
Little purple Mount Everest.
Squish the bread
Down goes the jelly
Down goes purple Mount Everest.

Hold the bread
Hold the jelly
Raise it high
Eat the bread
Eat the jelly
Eat the purple Mount Everest.

Summer sweetest.
Holding close to its wiggly being
Dreams of hot and good and juicy.
Stores which now grasp it in ruthless jars
What has happened to my jelly?
Do you deserve this treatment?

I always thought jelly
Was worthy of being displayed
In huge clusters
And blobs
Hanging from various telephone lines.
But that’s just me.

Its sweetness
Is held in jars.
Lined in rows and rows
In stores
Where people pick at you
And read your labels
And finally obtain you by passage of worthless paper.

Even now I let it pass,
This is the world.
This is my jelly.
I eat it, and neither of us
Comfort the other with prejudice.
I love you, jelly.