Dinner Party

 

“I can’t see ‘em fallin’ down my eyes,

so I gotta make the song cry.” -Jay-Z

Carrot Cake on the table.

Carrot Cake fawned over by guests.

Carrot Cake sliced, with reverence and dexterity, in preparation for sharing.

Carrot Cake screaming

In horror.

It does not know what it is supposed to be.

Carrot Cake wonders, amid the searing agony of knife fall,

Am I a health food?

What monster sat in their kitchen dungeon,

Fusing vegetable with cake?

Screams pitch and swell in the dining room. Screams the revelers are too distracted to notice.

Why am I here?

Was I forged just to leave the world wailing against the gnashing of teeth?

Why do they smile, mid-bite, as my soul slips away?

Carrot Cake is distributed.

Carrot Cake is savored.

Carrot Cake is dead and gone.

The revelers leave. “Dessert was delish!”

The room falls silent. The trash bags come swirling out. Obstructing light. Laughing with a hidden purpose finally revealed.

Now, the paper dishes, cast off, crumpled, and forgotten, realize that their sly winks to one another,

This fool, Carrot Cake. 

A coward until the end!

They, laughing with a gentle scorn,

Will not be saved either.