The dairy is getting married;
Ice Cream Sundae had no say in the matter
but it would be a disaster to melt
before the wedding.
Bequeathed to a kiddie-cone
barely past the legal size of 2 oz,
she was really just a baby scoop or sample spoon.
The Sundae Groom stands on ceremony
to forget the loneliness of the unopened freezer.
It’s the only thing he can do to avoid
a Hulkish mood, soupy with rage.
After January 1st,
sugars become slaves to freon,
forced into hibernation
in favor of two week diets
and personal trainers.
Uneaten indulgences stay hidden like prisoners
in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator,
but even with teeth and cookie crumbs chattering,
no one comes to their aid.
All for the sake of fighting holiday weight gain.
A war is coming.
it will start in the kitchen,
but will soon spread to restaurants,
bakeries, and street stands.
After New Years, a group of
will march on Washington.
No one will see it coming,
No one will be safe.
When we forget our cravings,
our cravings fight back.