The Shakers

Requiescat in pace, table salt and pepper. Your tabletop life was spicy. Your underground existence will be even more so.

Requiescat in pace, table salt and pepper. Your tabletop life was spicy. Your underground existence will be even more so.

These cruel condiments denying my olfactory senses — crying! —

By their absence, so withholding flavor by which food’s restored,

“Though mere salt and pepper shakers, thou,” I said, “art sure no fakers,

Playing dead as though thy maker banished thee to be ignored —

When wilt thou return to grace the cafe tables as before?”

Quoth the shakers “Nevermore.”