On The Great British Bake Off, Lemon Ice Cream Melts from the Springform

Abbie Kiefer
| poetry

 

and Iain slings his baked Alaska
in the bin. The whole spoiled

sweet. There’s talk of faulty freezers.
Sabotage. Enraged viewers

blame Diana. In loss,
I too demand a Diana.

I too, in loss, am reckoning–
desperate.

It’s an old episode. Each time
I watch, Iain goes home. Somewhere

in Ireland, he keeps on
marveling at the task’s audacity:

freeze it and torch it. Make it
two things at once. And let it be

lovely. Something honeyed
that holds. His mates clasp his shoulders.

Say That’s the way the sponge cake
crumbles. Say When life gives you

lemons. Say The meringue works
in mysterious ways—

voices weightless as egg whites
whipped to stiff peaks.

Abbie Kiefer is a poet from New Hampshire. Her work is forthcoming or has appeared in Boulevard, The Cincinnati Review, The Common, Ninth Letter, Ploughshares, Poetry Northwest, Shenandoah, The Southern Review, and elsewhere. She has twice been a semifinalist for the 92Y Discovery Prize and is on the staff of The Adroit Journal.

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