Queen of Trifles

One pint of sherry wine
says the recipe
which finds me asking
can I substitute a gallon of Chablis
or even quarts of Scotch or Bourbon 
pretend I am wallowing in my past
quelling my misery
while waving my alcoholism in Death’s face

One pound of macaroons
It says
They’ll place their calories under my nose
add pounds
more than the mere seventeen
I gained when the doctor told me not to walk
creating this newest morbidly overweight me

not trifling with death here either

One quart of cream whipped
will leave me more than sedentary
stiff
actually

and one whole egg flaunts current conventions
thumbs its nose against my clogged arteries
and helps me laugh at the second
or third
helping of those air saturated 
cream calories 
            standing tall over that
custard basted, wine soaked,
pound of Lady Fingers.

Reality is never what it seems
when trifles say they serve 12.







Queen of Trifles, The Settlement House Cookbook, page 372
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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