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