Bad enough I have to avert my eyes
From the wall of glazed, powdered, frosted,
crème and jelly filled doughnuts
in the bakery every week
When I go grocery shopping.
But there they are
Every Sunday morning
On two round trays
Naked for the taking
In the parish hall.
Sinfully pink or white frosted
Chocolate-y and shiny,
rolled in crushed nuts
Or candy sprinkles.
I fantasize taking just one and
Biting into the cream center,
Savoring it with a cup of hot coffee
While sitting in a folding chair,
Listening to adult forum.
But, Lord, if that sugar ever got inside me….
One would never be enough.
I’d be pinching, yanking and elbowing
Sunday Schoolers to get to the best ones
And pretending to walk around the church,
just so the same people wouldn’t see me
lose count on how many I gobbled down
before the feeling of fullness kicked in.
Late afternoon, regret would follow orgy.
I can’t believe they don’t buy smaller ones,
or less, or none at all.
Why not offer muffins or fresh fruit
or a pot ofsteel cut oats with natural toppings?
I know. Just because I can’t control myself
Doesn’t mean everyone should have to suffer.
But all that sugar….frosting….it isn’t even….food;
by Cindy Brookshire
April 6, 2014