Doughnut Sonnet No. 43

Parody of "The Dead" by Jones Very

by Stephanie Scarborough
I see them—crowded on a bakery tray: 
Dry, unglazed doughnuts carelessly left bare. 
Despite their nakedness, I have to say 
I'd rather eat them bare than leave them there. 

No sprinkles grace their flaky, unglazed tops, 
While other doughnuts shine with sugared glaze. 
The pastry chef, bored with routine, just stops 
And watches as each, one by one, decays. 

They fester there and hope one day they will 
Be glazed or sprinkled like the other ones. 
They lay around and rot and fester still, 
Forgotten with some moldy honey buns. 

Could this have been prevented? I believe; 
Yet closing Tupperware is something some've yet to achieve. 

© 2002 by Stephanie Scarborough. All rights reserved.