Requiem for a Blender

O Blender of my Youth!

My heart is cut in a thousand places

At the thought of losing thee!

Thou hast blended many things

Over the past thirty-odd years,

And none will ever blend as thou dost—

As loudly, or as electrically.

Thou hast blended the diet concoctions of my tender years,

When I was but a lass of ten

And very pudgy indeed.

Thou madest me slender with thy protein shakes.

Thou hast blended ice for the mixéd drinks of my twenties,

And fruits of the tree and vine

For smoothies that wert both delicious and nutritious,

To aid me in consuming my Five a Day

In my spreading middle age.

But alas, thou hast become weary in thy advancing years,

And can no longer purée the pumpkin.

Thy innards smoke and groan,

And from thy depths, thou emittest a foul odor.

I shall lay thee gently to rest

In the soft bosom of our roomiest garbage receptacle.

Soon, thou wilt be whisked away

To the land where blenders ne’er die

And blades tarnish not

Or e’er grow dull.

Thou shall be replaced

With a younger, sleeker, cheaper model,

Which will probably break in a couple years—

But do not take it personally,

Because thou wert, and art, and shall remain,

The blender of my sweetest, frothiest,

And most thoroughly frappéed dreams.

Advertisement

Tags: blender