At 10:15 the clock-
work pretty
pair of pastel boxes
splays and cramps the countertop—
persuading aimless
crowds to pause and
populate the dark kitchen.
The airy celebration invited—gaudy
cheer of polka-
dots in pink and
orange adorning glossy windowed
cardboard streaked
translucent and snug with sticky
favors—seems rivaled
only by the stark
solemnity of its participants—most
of whom can't help
begrudging—as they stuff
their willingness to be—handcuffed
by simple rings
of pure fried cake.
