June 2009

by Kaolin Fire

Prithee tell — what makes a cookie
sumptuous as the mildewed air,
and spongy as a forgotten mattress
used by lovers now long past
their bed-by date

(for all but a daring few)

Know it well? A crazed confection,
dusted lightly with crumbled cranium;
a zombie treat, they come for BRAIINZZZZ
and stay for the obvious pains
taken in the elegant preparation —
down to the very mode of serving:
in severed torso

(half-shell if you will)

Now the hard sell: you’ve caught us
in flagrante delecto — these cadaverous cookies
elevate themselves above the pale
rotting, misbegotten and forgotten dead;
of course, any chef worth their trade samples
their goods, so you must pick your fate:
sample of your own free will or
we’ll hook you some other way

(perhaps some zombie pate?)

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