An Elegy to Peanut Butter

When I opened the jar of peanut butter
my heart began to flutter.

The surface was so smooth
it seemed too precious a sight to lose.

I couldn't help but hesitate
I couldn't bring the knife to penetrate

that perfect portrait of virgin beauty:
peanut butter as it should be.

My hunger grew and yet I might
set aside the butter knife;

I stood froze in inner struggle
between my heart and my stomach's gurgles;

is it silly to feel such moral strife,
or is it wrong to take the life

of such an innocent jar of food?
Then I thought, "Get a grip, dude."

I jammed the knife into the cream
and as I did I heard it scream:

"You'd murder me to butter your bread?
Why didn't you eat a burger instead?!"