BUTTER

My mother loves butter more than I do,
more than anyone. She pulls chunks off
the stick and eats it plain, explaining
cream spun around into butter! Growing up
we ate turkey cutlets sauteed in lemon
and butter, butter and cheese on green noodles,
butter melting in small pools in the hearts
of Yorkshire puddings, butter better
than gravy staining white rice yellow,
butter glazing corn in slipping squares

butter the lava in white volcanoes
of hominy grits, butter softening
in a white bowl to be creamed with white
sugar, butter disappearing into
whipped sweet potatoes, with pineapple,
butter melted and curdy to pour
over pancakes, butter licked off the plate
with warm Alaga syrup. When I picture
the good old days I am grinning greasy
with my brother, having watched the tiger

chase his tail and turn to butter. We are
Mumbo and Jumbo’s children despite
historical revision, despite
our parent’s efforts, glowing from the inside
out, one hundred megawatts of butter.

LITERARY DEVICES

• Hyperbole
• Alliteration

-The Idea of the Poem-
The idea of the poem is how a person is remembering her childhood and describing the love their mother has for butter and how everything they ate had butter with it some way, some how.

-Theme-
For the love of butter

THE SPEAKER

-The Title-
The conclusion I drew from the title is you can remember the littlest thing from your past and it can be a big memory.

THERE IS NO RHYME SCHEME