About "This" Fork

What is so special about "this"fork?

To spear some fish, or perhaps some pork?

This shiny tool is just lying there

Awaiting my desire to attack the fare.

An eating utensil cannot think

And when finished work it lands in the sink.

My fork works hard but it has no hope,

The morsels left on it are removed by soap.

I blame this tool for my bulging waist

It performs its duty with haste, not taste.

This trusty fork held in my fist

Will be there always to "assist".