Jennifer MacPherson

No One Pities the Hopeful

Imagine a pint
of Godiva white chocolate raspberry ice cream,
how it conjures up visions
of sinful richness, dim living room
speckled by candles,
Casablanca’s
few hours of rented nostalgia,
sweet treats
proud and dreaming
of long spoons.
Alas for the anonymous dinner,
the undressed salad,
the bologna sandwich.
Instead, consider the banana,
its erotic connotation
at breakfast.