Poem #2: The Loneliest Cupcake; A Tragedy

When a woman loves a man
And that man loves sweets
Now and again
She’ll make him treats

Sugar and flour
Butter and Bowl
A Bit Of Love
To give it some soul

Chocolate frosting
Moist Yellow cake
A licorice face
Just for cuteness’ sake

From its piping hot womb
At 350 degrees
She made him a cupcake
Whipped up with ease

Placed on its plate
Left to cool on the sill
She went to the lounge
And called his name, “Will!”

A grin on his face
Will came a running
“Martha!” He cried
“You are ever so cunning.”

Moving faster than fast
Lickedy split
Martha blushed bright red
As her cheek met his lip

Open throat like a snake
Downed in one great big gulp
He swallowed the cake
Not quit chewed to a pulp



A moment passed uneventful
Then on horrific cue
Will gave a noise
As he turned a purple hue

Will sputtered and spewed
He croaked in frustration
(Never one much for
Erotic asphyxiation)

He fell to the floor
Looking quite dead
Crashing to the linoleum
By the crown of his head

Martha shrieked and ran
Knelt down by his side
Fearing the truth
She knew down inside

From out of Will’s mouth
There came a strange groan
Proving at once
She wasn’t alone

“Will?” She cried
Feeling quite hopeful
As “it” crawled from his mouth
That seemed quite doubtful

It stood 3 inches tall
Looking a bit worse for wear
It touched at its frosting
As if parting hair

“How could you?” The cake cried
“How could you Mother?
How could you forsake my life
For that of another?”

“This is insane!” Martha screamed,
“I baked you from batter!
You’re my boyfriend’s snack!
That’s all that matters!”

“Forgive me Mother, dear,
If I seem a bit Oedipal,
But your defense here,
Feels a tad ineffectual.

“You baked me
You birthed me
You loved me
And left me

“You gave me life
Then you tried to erase me!
Do you understand
How you’ve driven me crazy?!”

“I’m sorry!” She yelled,
“With all of my heart!”
“It’s almost cute,” The cake growled,
“To see you try and play that part.”

As he drew the knife from the drawer
Her eyes widened in fear
“Well,” said the cake,
“I think I’ve made myself clear.”

--------------

His baked fingers sticky
With sugar and blood
He sat in the machine’s belly
As tears started to flood.

His parentage ended
His dark legacy done
He sighed from fatigue
And turned the oven on.


THE END