Workshop Cookies

This entry is part 6 of 8 in the series Issue I: Spring 2009

by Doris Shores

O workshop cookies,
Which materialize dependably
Each Thursday afternoon, thanks to Deborah,
Kind supplier of our workshop cookies–
How good you cookies taste.

The treats punctuate the workshop
Halfway through; and I, responding
To the crackle of the packaging alone,
Start immediately to salivate–
Yes, salivate, even though I have already,
In front of everyone, wolfed down
Cheese and whatnot. But
Cheese and whatnot aren’t cookies.

I allow myself two cookies,
Only two, lest I disgrace myself entirely
And “greedily engorge without restraint,”
As Milton said of fallen Eve.

But sometimes, if my most recent
Exorcism has failed or faded,
The wickedness within urges me:
“Go ahead, kid, what the hell.
Take another cookie.”
Then against my better judgment,
I heed this dark, compelling
Voice and grab yet one more
Petit Ecolier–
Or even two.

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