Pound, Moon, Angelfood
Poem by Elaine Irvine
Drench me in olive oil, or in icing, or in pink lemonade, glaze yourself in still-dripping not-set meringue, and say “Sugar... honey... feed me.” Sticky mess. I will, I will again.
Garnish myself in ripe berries,
or in almond cream, or in rosemary,
decoration of not-yet-too-firm
marzipan, and whisper “Sugar … honey …
feed me.” And I do,
I will, again, and again.