No need to cook. No time to wait.
I choose to eat the butter straight.
Who cares for corn to melt it on?
I lick the butter till it’s gone.
No need for muffins or a roll.
Instead the butter’s swallowed whole.
No need to spread it on the bread,
I cram it in my mouth instead.
Each stick, each tub, each yellow pat
is polished off in seconds flat.
Mom calls me her butterball
for it’s my favorite food of all.
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