Why the fuck are these all about food? I might have an idea; I've been cutting out cheese and trying not to eat so many sweets in addition to my usual gluten-free, vegetarian diet. It sounds austere but I'll give you two words -- pumpkin butter. Now, for the poem.
Yours don't addle me so
I seek out crueller
Whoever goes with me
to the pastry shop better like good drag,
white-topped and iced,
shrieking and gelled,
a slap of color in every
Whoever goes, better she knows.
In my heart everyone headbutts
to look this way, fans out like blades.
And only one gets
to the counter. Marches up
to register mademoiselle. Puts the money down
and waits like a catwalk. Call me
when you want a hot scrutiny
and your pastry scored.