Buttering toast is
Something we do a lot
And yet each time there are decisions
Leave the toast to cool?
And the butter sits atop
All buttery and unctuous
But visibly guilt prompting
Butter it hot
And whilst succulent and invisible
May go soggy
And then there’s the jam
What does it say about a man?
Who spreads jam with the butter knife?
A man out of control
Butter in the jam
Jam in the butter
And then there’s the butter straight from the fridge
That should never be a problem
Not if you use the butter dish
But we shape our tools
And have to invent spreadable butter
Every single time I butter toast
I remember the time
My sister announced the innovative method
Her stubble faced boy friend had
For cleaning the butter knife
He would stab it into the edge
And slide the knife inside
This is similar to opening the post
If you use a letter knife
The knife ventures into an unknown world inside the bread
The family murmur en masse
We can’t have other family’s methods at our table
Thinks he’s a big shot does he?
This butter knife-cleaning dandy?
I don’t like to eat toast on the move
It’s too fraught with synaptic fire