The chemistry of the recipe suits her disposition
more baker less chef if left to her own stirrings
baked delicacies would have lavished our meals:
her bread best sliced, toasted, buttered
homemade granola generous with almonds
rhubarb cream pie, rum cake, flan with caramel
batches of M&Ms/peanut butter/oatmeal
so massive we called the cookies Monster
Dutifully, she was scientist enough to serve us sensible
later, a drudgery she shamelessly retired to my Father
“When did Putin turn puffy?” I’m appalled
“He’s an old man,” my husband matter-of-facts
but I think Putin’s body balloons
pressured by the prayers of mothers
who choose to flout obligations
flaunting an appetite to laden him
with all that is sweet unhealthy
they will his heart to fail faster
