Ode to my Kitchen Aid

ODE TO MY KITCHEN AID

IN THE STYLE OF: STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS
BY Mark Twain

did you go up in firey sparks?
did you expire with a puff of smoke?
did this baker mourn with sad remarks
at the discovery that you were broke?

No; such was not the fate of
my old and trusty Kitchen Aid
‘Twas not from some catastrophe
from this kitchen you did bade

No hand was caught among the blade
Nor electrical fire caused your break
No nut and bolt soup was being made
No concrete was anyone trying to make.

But still you left me with woe
when no longer you would turn,
when you were stuck only spinning air on low,
‘Twould be better if you’d burn

A bowl full of bready dough,
With flour, sugar, water and some yeast
And yet you would not go
Not in the very least.

I tried unplugging the cord,
I even tried giving you a bath.
I prayed to the gracious Lord
I even called upon his wrath.

But still you would not mix or beat,
You just stand still and hum
I think soon the trash you shall greet
For you and I, we’re done.

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