San Francisco Blog

Vegetables made of chocolate.
White, milk, dark.
Radishes, cucumbers, artichokes.

She could get used to this.

The table was set for a feast,
A coronation, a wedding
Or maybe just lunch.

It didn't matter.

She sat above the salt,
Bedecked with ivy, dripping with emeralds.
A regal yet kindly chameleon curled up
On the chair to her left.
On her right sat a Cookie
Singing "Up jumped the boogie. . . "

Front and center a dyspeptic jester
Turned handstands on demand,
Eating ginger candy and
Clapping with one hand.

At the end of the longest table,
A pruniferous king stewed in his own juices,
Bummed that hunting season was over,
And that he had failed to kill anything.

Even the tiny rosewater
Moat circling his plate
Failed to amuse.
Grousing and muttering, he swore himself hoarse
And glared seven times at no one in particular.

He plunged a filthy finger into the dainty moat.
And immediately said finger--
Bedecked though it was with diamonds and rubies--
Turned gastric green
And dropped from hand to moat.

Which prompted the chameleon
To make an unrepeatable joke.

Cookie just turned up the bass
And the jester burped solemnly.

She fingered leaves of artichoke.
First to peel the white chocolate ones,
Then the milk
And finally, at the heart, dark.

Looking directly at the king, she mused,
"Today is the very best day since November 16, 1973."

Convivially, the chameleon, the Cookie and the jester
Joined her in toast,
Topped with goatsmilk butter
And lavender honey.

The king fished his finger from the moat
And placed it on the edge of his plate,
Next to a piece of marzipan.

Well toasted, our young chocolatess sprung from her chair
In a carnival dance.

With every turn across the floor
She was transformed and transforming.

Spinning all the colors of the spectrum,
She kicked up her heels in a purple frenzy,
Orange pulsed from her fingertips,
And her hair sent gold sparks
Flying far above the king's table.