Recipe

A kitchen is a fine place to hatch a plot.

I will be your confederate--

The most agreeable evil

You ever met.

The sun falls through the curtains

Like fingertips on skin,

As we bring out the magicks--

Sugar,

Flour,

Cinnamon.

We work as if we were zealots

In basements, printing up pamphlets,

For the purblind left, or the palsied right--

Except that we are subversives

Of a different stripe.

We will lull them,

Make them lazy--

Say there's no more,

Make them crazy;

Then, when they are helpless,

We shall withdraw and decide our demands--

They shall be many,

And capricious;

Not from need, these wicked plans, but simply because

We can.

______

Art by Pablo Picasso