Book of Joys: Wheat

We don’t often speak about
wheat: I mentioned
barley once and you
replied with corn.
But never wheat.
Odd, since it’s everywhere
and in everything.

We’ve talked about hubcaps,
leather seats,
love, a squirrel, waterfronts,
maple tree, skiing, condos,
traffic, lusty
gypsy women, organ music,
leaves of grass, art theory,
bungalows, and
spaceflight.
But not wheat.

Now, when you read this poem we
will finally tiptoe up to the sheaf.
I will have fixed that little problem
(brushes hands, grins) in my tin-
pot megalomania.