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Stephanie Williamson Poem
Pi (e) Day Sestina
being the recollection of a conversation between myself as I was trying to enjoy a piece of
pie and my suddenly irrational, demanding, and surprisingly bilingual stomach on 3/14
I really want a frosted sugar cookie right now.
Now, don’t think I’m loca
but if you don’t get me one I’m going to get Chuck
Norris to roundhouse kick you in the face. His lust
y pectorals: tan, hairy and torsional, will be but a blur in your memory. Never underestimate
the power of the one who can even make pi
a rational number. Oh irrational love of sugar cookies! I can almost taste the sweet buttery
goodness of the frost
ing melting in my mouth like the frost
y ice crystals busy changing states of matter now
on top of the piece of pie
hastily served to you before properly thawed at the loca
l diner, piled high with enough fake whipped cream to satiate even the lust
iest of appetites. “Who would chuck, even if they could chuck, would chuck
away such a flawless embodiment of pre-prepared, packaged, processed, passed off as
home-cooked goodness in favor of a stale cookie, and on Pi(e) Day nonetheless?” you chuck
le. That snide remark is deserving of the bestowal of my best Queen Frost
ine stare, you know, cold and queenly and vaguely reminiscent of the Candyland character
with the same name, whose (il)lust
riousness is matched solely (not only in beauty but also in sugar content) by that of a frosted
sugar cookie. I hope you (k)now
how to take a hint. No? Well, then get that pie-filled fork out of my face while I spell it out
for you. Loca
te a frosted sugar cookie for me pronto! This piece of pie
disgusts me! I don’t care that it’s pi
day! You’ve got 3.14 seconds to get me a frosted sugar cookie before I up-chuck
all over everything in this immediate loca
le! Don’t make me get all Frost
y the snowman on you now
and have a meltdown! Wow, I need to stop and take a deep breath. I’m making myself
extremely (f)lust
Copyright © Stephanie Williamson | Year Posted 2009
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Details |
Stephanie Williamson Poem
ered, just like I would be if I ever found myself in Gossip Girl’s contrived version of New York
City’s upper east
side on a (b)lust
ery day and I saw prettily-pressed preppy clothes clinging to the perfect pie
l (skin in Spanish. Duh. Who doesn’t (k)now
that?) of Chuck
Bass, the hottest fictional character ever to grace a fashion-forward, self-destructive-lifestyle-
glamorizing teenage
soap opera. Granted, frost
bite has a better personality than Chuck Bass, but ahh… sigh…he still drives me loca.
There. That digression has kept me from going completely loca
but don’t think my unrequited lust
for Chuck Bass has in any way diminished my unrequited lust for a pseudo-intellectual Frost/
Nixon movie discussion party. Ha! I jest. Of course I mean for a frosted sugar cookie. So
let’s ditch this piece of
pie,
go searching for a sugar cookie, and end this Chuck
Palahniuk-esque multiple personality disorder now.
Don’t worry. This won’t take long. I’ve got an (echo)loca(tion) ability for sugar cookies like
bats have for bugs.
“What about the pie?”
you ask, “We can’t just waste it because of your irrational lust(y) cravings.” I know you’re
right so I strike a
compromise. While you’re lacing up your Chuck
Taylors, I patiently allow the waitress to box up the pie as a possible post-frosted sugar
cookie supplement, even
though if we had abandoned the pie, I’d be bathed in beautiful frosted sugar cookie-ness by
now.
Copyright © Stephanie Williamson | Year Posted 2009
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