Making Frenchfries

Making Frenchfries

A Poem by Briana Noël Crane

A whimsically dark, pun-intended poem told from the perspective of a French fry.


My blood runs cold

Freezing and expanding

Bursting my veins  

Like opening a soda can that’s been in the freezer too long.

Shards of ice embedded in my flesh

I shiver at night as salt pours from my eyes-

Iodized tears

I look on from afar as they peel off my skin like a potato

And slather me with margarine compliments-  

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.  

Cut into thin slices and thrown in a vat of my own loathing

Predestined to drown in preconceived notions

A bubbling, babbling, boiling broth

Suffocating me with reduced-reused-recycled oil-

Grimy grease  

Overheated, overcrowded, overdone

My skin shrivels  

Brown and leathery

My edges begin to crust

Finally I’m taken out

Like a fish scooped out of an oil spill

Only to be met by the condemning bill of a pelican-

Food for the foul.  

All my pieces are divvied and distributed-

Separate packaging for each part of me.  

Each portion of my being doomed to a variation of the same fate.

Consumed by a dozen different mouths.

A dozen different beasts.

Digested a dozen different ways.

But at the end of the day,  

I’m reduced to nothing more than human waste.  

© 2015 Briana Noël Crane

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WOOH! BRAVO BRAVO! This was amazing. I loved the imagery and how you took multiple perspectives AHH! I LOVED IT xx

Posted 2 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Briana Noël Crane

2 Years Ago

Thank you so much :)

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1 Review
Added on December 1, 2015
Last Updated on December 1, 2015
Tags: whimsical, humor, pun, word play, poetry, dark satire, french fry


Briana Noël Crane
Briana Noël Crane

Danville, VA

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