Mrs. Oakley entered the category of Other Muffin
(that being the one where blueberries were denied):
Not uniform in shape or color. Not standard!
No award. Not a difficult decision. Her doughnut
fared no better, was shriveled by noon, its shadow
in grease on the paper plate—
no one should get hurt at the county fair
but life is a laminar surface of surfaces
and though Mrs. Oakley to her continuous credit
continuously bakes in seven categories annually
from the marquee a letter occasionally falls.
In Düsseldorf a mechanic compared premium petrol
to caviar, great sex to Sacher tortes.
The philosophers concurred: these thoughts
fall apart when you think them.
Neither deserves an award.
Rise up, Mrs. Oakley, you are not alone!