The Great Food Panic Of 2020 Poem by John Stetson

Well…
We headed to the corner store for more
Of what we thought we needed more
Of what we thought we needed for
Just what we thought we needed when we headed to the store

See appetite gets whet when met
With thoughts of what you might not get
When met with shortage yet imagined
By those with gardens needing weeding

Cause gardens kept by those whose habits
Lend to tending most by rabbits
Tend to tendencies like rabbits
Eating more than weeding without much of a harvest

Imagining there's nothing harder
Than working to fill the family larder
Lurking in the den and shirking all that dirty work
And working hard at finding rest

Much simpler then to hop the buggy
Hit the AC warm or muggy
Zip down to see the local grocer and spend your dime
And not your time no sweat to get the belly swelling

And while you're there be dust and care free
Filling baskets with abandon
Nothing taxing more than handing
Plastic to the smiling teller

At least you think her eyes are smiling
Behind the mask there while you're piling
All the cravings you've been saving
All your pent up ravings for upon the belt before you rolling

Sweet or salty, juicy, malty, two or three of all you see
You haven't baked since '93
But yeast is small and all twas there
Will fill your basket up quite nicely

Then head back home to stock the pantry
Stopping on the way for take-out sliding through the drive-thru
Why bother now to use the oven after all
This taxing shopping's made an appetite not waiting

For some bothersome preparing
Fast food's filling if not daring
All your energy expended
In those crowded ailes you wended

You can barely tend the blender
And end the evening cordially

Meanwhile we're just washing up
From toiling for our soup to sup
We've sharpened steel and cut some oats, rolled them lovingly
And planned the morrow's menu all by hand

Involved in every major step we look
With pride on that kept safe from pestilence and pest
Our vigilance kept while you slept, rest is best earned
Filled with grain from rain and strain we carefully planned

There's just one thing it seems we're lacking
A lack of one small item sends us packing
Hastily lest closing keep us from a well-deserv-ed sleep
Its need will feed us on the morrow, rest is one thing one can't borrow

One thing no saving satisfies, just craving when it's passed you by
No storing upon shelf or pantry, losing sleep, a thing
That can't be stored, your snoring must be taken
When the time is not forsaken lest the morning find you waking

In a fog that shan't be shaken til you reclaim what you've mistaken
Worthy as some late endeavor thinking you might just be clever
'Nough to outrun nature's timepiece like a nimble sprightly time thief
Stealing long into the night, replacing what you have been taking

Tripping past the light fantastic thinking that the night's elastic
Burning for you at both ends, stretching slowly making bends
Around your schedule like 'twas ruling all the while yourself you're fooling
That by now no 'mount of schooling hard earned when you rambled younger

Filled with different kinds of hunger kept you up instead of slumber
Sheep escaping without number while age had yet to creep up
Now causing you your sleep to keep up
Father Time it's time unbending you know where this line is ending

But I digress…

So to the store the steed is mounted precious coins and ounces counted
Measured treasured for the baking well worth all the time it's taking
Rising time is that what's needed 'fore our rising time is heeded
Cause we've long since learned our lesson when our sleep we seek to lessen

So with haste the corner turning yearning to part with our earnings
Turning them into what's burning on our palate we can taste it
Tasty toasty fresh and warm, goodness gladness we can make it
Just before the grocer closes, after we get home we'll bake it

Don the masks (forsake the weapons) down the aisle we fly like felons
To the baker's alley flying bent intent on what we're buying
Past the mixes, chips, and flour, mindful of the hastening hour
Mindful ever of the countdown when the register will shut down

With the wheel of commerce rolling to a stop the clock controlling
Us it is no mere illusion consternation or confusion
One thing procured something determines
Progress toward our grand conclusion

One small catalyst is calling us to culinary calling
Used since hull first torn from seedling
Made its way from floors and threshing
To the sieve its sleeve unmeshing

Grinding journey yet undaunted to the mixing bowl it wanted
There to tarry and to meet with one small thing it's not complete with
Out the marriage with the fungus that's most precious on the tongue
Thus spurring us on our own journey to procure nature's own blessing

On we go past soda, powder
Crusts and icing, filling, pudding
Evaporated milk and extracts
Color, sprinkles, flakes and what's that?

Jars and boxes, pans, wax paper
Jell-O, yellow gelatin and chocolate
Cakes and cornbread, brownies, muffins
Stuff that's made for stomach stuffin'

But we pass them by and thunder
Down the aisle toward our quarry
Dough in hand and mind, imagination pulsing
Panting, hungry pulses racing

Closing to the shelf that's labeled
Microorganism fabled

Single cell meets single-minded
Suddenly from side we're blinded…

On the shelf above the paper stating, 'Please be kind and taper
Wants to needs and basket only what you need and don't leave lonely
Hearts and minds who're seeking solace
With their dough still in their wallets

Hoarding what is not now needed, just take one, with you we're pleading
'Just in case' is not good reason storing up foodstuff and season
Taking all you see before you, just take one, we now implore you
If we all use common courtesy, we'll all get through this most surely

But above the shelf and warning there beyond the pastry icing
Empty space and yawning chasm, depth beyond imagination
Spasms of the darkest horror, wracked with rising indignation
Yeast was not there to be found it was not bought and most confounding

Left us shuffling sadly door bound without needed 'gredient in hand
Sour outlook, sour mood, needing one thing for the food which
Must be had for toast or sandwich, avocado, cheese, or Manwich
Leaving us to pine and suffer, relegated for our supper

Dough in wallet, hand on heart
Sourdough must be our part