The thrill of you on my tongue
I get shivers from the texture
the warm, almost clammy stickiness
and sweet, so sweet.
My temperamental chameleon
you frown upon heat and you
revel in cold. In summer
I can’t order you to come,
in winter I can order you anywhere.
You are the bane of dentists,
and mothers who think children
should eat vegetables, but life
is too short. I want a cinnamon
hot chocolate to go with my
art gallery, four dollar, half inch
square beauty of Earl Grey and
fig, or a handful of pink grapefruit
jelly beans, or if the stars
are aligned, the most perfect
atomic fireball oh please…
Give me more,
mint lentils that crunch in half
between teeth, sour snakes
winding their way to my tonsils,
and butter mints, let me
grind them against the roof
of my mouth,
rich – pasty – delicious.
Rock candy echoes
between my ears, an internal
CAT scan of crunch, a string
to tie in a knot with no hands,
dark chocolate Raisinets,
and gummis of all
shapes and sizes. Swedish
fish. And licorice,
does it get any better than
unwrapping the spiral
with your front teeth while
talking to friends?
Your friends have sugar
and no fat. Your friends have
jiggle but no shake.
Your friends salute the flag
of red, green and white Alpine
mints, at Easter they come
in pastel and I pretend
they did it just for me.
A whole bag of red M&M’s.
Civilized Werthers to share,
individually wrapped and proper,
uncivilized Fleur de Sel caramels…
I could undress you right now
toss your wrapper like so
much trash into the snow and
pop you in my mouth.
You are the one who makes
me sigh. You are the one
who makes me weep. Oh
to have an endless pocket
of change and a candy store
down the block. I swear
I will travel the world, my
appetite for sweets
unsatisfied as my longing
to try Cadbury in every country
does not sway me from my first
love, the perfect Violet Crumble.
(Slab, Spring 2010)