All the din of desire is ants in a cake

It’s day five and Houston, we have
a real case of cabin fever. The city
is never coming in to plow the snow

from these little residential streets.
We say “the city” as if we were expecting
a row of buildings that take on a particular

look silhouetted against the evening sky,
to appear on the street corner armed
with shovels. And it’s lousy when finally

you get the shed door open then realize you don’t
own one. But no worries— improv is a skill!
The largest aluminum baking sheet in the pantry

is 17 x 12 x 1. What else to do? Untouched
but for sweetgum nonpareils, the backyard is
a fondant sheet. Easy as pie once you get

the rhythm. You think of all the little favors
taped to ribbon pulls underneath a wedding cake:
wishbone, key, prancing pony. Button, bell, fleur-

de-lis; silver thimble. No one says spinster or
old maid anymore, and CNN reports that now
is actually the best time in which to be

single. Chocolate would be a popular
flavor, if not for how it tends to show
in the pictures when people smile.


In response to Via Negativa: Humbugger.

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