Wednesday, July 30, 2014

A Poem by Grace Maselli

The Twinkies Are Gone
But then they came back,
even after Hostess tanked.

Other Big Firms to the rescue,
lest you flip
out and horde, as some did,
the golden sponge,
filled and artificial.
You’ll wish you’d had more cream
before The Nuclear
with only cockroaches left to feast
on the sugary nectar,
the radiated sponge a bygone thing.
Take back the night swinging
on the yellow mini cake like an oblong moon
bounced into open ovens in bakeries.

A skilled workforce pulls down the door
to 425 degrees or so of heat —
slips raw batter into the cooker
a sugar high
at the Emporia.

Sons, daughters, mothers, fathers,
cranking out sponge cakes for 50 years.

Better than Hungarian cherry pie.

The darling of fake foods:
and glorious,
from which American dreams are made.
Grace Maselli is at work on a collection of essays and poems. She studied for seven years in New York City at The Writers Studio founded by American poet and author, Philip Schultz. Her work has appeared in Cleaver Magazine, Poydras Review, Streetlight Magazine and The Penmen Review.  Her poem, What the Hair Is Going On? was recently published as a mini chapbook by Phafours Press, Ottowa, Canada. She lives in North Tampa, FL, with a husband, two kids, two dogs, and a Coronet guinea pig.

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