And then I thought about, well, Uncle Ben
hasn't come to me yet, but I thought
about the cream of wheat guy.
You know him?
This is a survey of my food as a child.
"Cream of Wheat"--
"Sometimes at night, we stroll the market aisles,
Ben and Jemima and me.
They walk in front, humming this and that.
I lag behind, trying to remove my chef's cap,
wondering what ever pictured me then left me personless.
Rastus-- I read in an old paper that I was called Rastus,
but no mother ever gave that to her son.
Toward dawn, we head back to our shelves, our boxes,
Ben and Jemima and me.
We pose and smile.
I simmer to myself, 'What is my name?'"