Minnesota State Fair Poem: journey in miniature

journey in miniature

by Leslie Ball

At the corner of Carnes and Underwood,

A mini factory in red and yellow

Called Tom Thumb Donuts.

Tom, no relation, tells us the story of Col. Tom Thumb,

39-inch tall man known round the world in the early 1900s.

The term Tom Thumb synonymous with miniature.

Here, a row a cubes line the countertop,

Each a self-contained bakery.

Tom calls it 'baker in a box.'

The glass walls draw spectators

Who watch as every couple seconds

A little canister of batter, like a miniature cannon

Fires out fat cheerio rings of raw dough.

The workers call it 'donut goo.'

The rings splash into hot oil, 99 percent soy bean,

And begin their journey through the canal

In a circular parade.

I watch a ring as it bobs along the inner path,

Bubbling as its bottom bakes.

Then halfway along the spiral,

A rotating spatula flips it out

Over for the final exterior lap,

Around and out, up a wee conveyor belt

To a peak above their soy sea level,

To drop down to where the worker scoops them up,

Each uniformly golden brown,

Into a basket, into sugar laced with cinnamon,

Into a bag, into our hands.

Do I enjoy these morsels that much more

Because I watch them evolve from

Raw donut goo to final complete treat?

Don't they say the journey is just as important as the destination?

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