The Choice, or Non-Choice, of Pulp

THE CHOICE, OR NON-CHOICE, OF PULP

In the slow process
of getting us sane,
we have ground
our poor souls into a pulp.
Pulp is not bad, as it goes,
but I’d rather have
something fresher, lighter,
more special than pulp.
Pulp seems so ordinary, so
mundane. Really, if my
soul has to be ground
into anything at all,
I’d rather it be
a cup of fresh fairy dust,
or at least a teaspoon
of cinnamon or cocoa.
But since one’s soul
is usually ground
without permission,
one rarely has
that choice!