And it is the middle of the night
in the wee hours of the morning,
and the sweetness of all that making sense
got me to thinking that if I got
a plate and a fork and put
whipped topping on cherry cheesecake
it wouldn’t be too hateful,
so I did it,
and it wasn’t,
and sorry I didn’t save you a bite
but I eat well enough most of the time that
I don’t worry about a few carbs when I want them
and know well enough that
what goes into a man can’t defile him,
and even if something that went in him
would defile him,
it certainly wouldn’t be cherry cheesecake
with whipped topping scooped on its top,
which is as sweet as knowing that
Virginia Woolf wrote
“A Room of One’s Own”
or that Strunk and White still matter.
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