I see an ocean of mustard
Extending beyond the horizon.
Scattered about by Spaniards
Marking their way north,
Hoping to find a better life.

Maybe that explains
The countless jars
Cluttering my fridge,
Some arriving recently
Others, only God knows.

My wife calls out:
"We have mustard!"
As I head for the store
Wanting to buy more,
But knowing we have

Enough already.