The poem of the week is Ode to Chocolate by Barbara Crooker.
I hate milk chocolate, don’t want clouds
of cream diluting the dark night sky,
don’t want pralines or raisins, rubble
in this smooth plateau. I like my coffee
black, my beer from Germany, wine
from Burgundy, the darker, the better.
I like my heroes complicated and brooding,
James Dean in oiled leather, leaning
on a motorcycle. You know the color.Oh, chocolate! From the spice bazaars
of Africa, hulled in mills, beaten,
pressed in bars. The cold slab of a cave’s
interior, when all the stars
have gone to sleep.Chocolate strolls up to the microphone
and plays jazz at midnight, the low slow
notes of a bass clarinet. Chocolate saunters
down the runway, slouches in quaint
boutiques; its style is je ne sais quoi.
Chocolate stays up late and gambles,
likes roulette. Always bets
on the noir.“Ode to Chocolate” by Barbara Crooker, from More. © C&R Press, 2010.
Are you a chocolate lover? What is your favorite kind? Dark, light, nutty, nougat?
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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Or, as that other great poet Homer Simpson merely says, “Mmmmmmmm….Chooooock-laaaaate!”
Give me that dark stuff!!
Anything with almonds is my vice!
Friends on facebook are weighing in:
K.K.: “Chocolate strolls up to the microphone
and plays jazz at midnight” How perfect is that?
K. Alexander: Mmm makes me hungry…
D. Shea: I still stand by Fran’s Chocolates (Seattle) as best ever.