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The Paris Review - Fall 2016

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Ishmael Reed<br />

THE DIABETIC DREAMS OF CAKE<br />

“Wall Street says that cake sales are low”<br />

Or to put it bluntly<br />

“Cake is fizz”<br />

So why is a diabetic dreaming of cake<br />

Asked to leave a temple<br />

Because he didn’t know that rice cakes<br />

Were sacrament?<br />

(He managed to jam some into his pockets)<br />

He dreamed that Mount Diablo was a Devil’s food cake<br />

He began to munch it down until his path was<br />

Interrupted by his Pancreas<br />

<strong>The</strong> Pancreas had sticklike arms and legs<br />

It was frowning<br />

It put up a hand and beckoned him to halt<br />

He pushed aside the Pancreas and finished his<br />

Meal<br />

Next, he was attending the Asparagus Festival<br />

In Freiburg<br />

It was held in a great medieval hall and before<br />

Each person there was a plate of asparagus<br />

He started banging on his plate<br />

Asparagus Nicht, Kuchen Ja<br />

Next he was running across Central<br />

Park, juggling a wedding cake without<br />

Losing a single flake<br />

Safely in some Brooklyn room<br />

<strong>The</strong> news said that he had stolen<br />

<strong>The</strong> cake from a tony East Side wedding<br />

He didn’t take it all in<br />

63

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