A Paean to New Jersey Corn

Paean to New Jersey Corn
by K. R. Strange
I sat on the back steps to peel the corn.
There it was,
all yellow and white
in crooked rows.
A sorry excuse
for a cob of corn.
Just then my heart yearned
for New Jersey.
It rarely does, but
the corn they grow
back home is a sublime
work of delectability.
Perfect rows of small, white kernels
springing eagerly into
waiting mouths,
popping sweet juice
all over grateful
tongues and teeth.
But here I sit with Midwest
corn grown into
perfect imperfection;
fit for pigs and those
with mouths never
blessed by NJ corn.
8.16.04