Vulva-Shaped Bonbons By Matthew Dickman

It occurs to me that I have not mentioned the beautiful poem that Matthew Dickman wrote about our chocolates in a while.

He wrote it last year or so, but it’s so nice to be reminded of it that here it is again.

You might know cutie-pie Matthew from such places as The New Yorker, or his great first collection of poems. If you haven’t read any of his work yet, I envy the awesomeness you are about to discover.


Vulva-Shaped Bonbons

By Matthew Dickman
for Lagusta Yearwood

The kitchen of Le Pigeon is empty

but for the ghosts of Bordeaux and pork bellies, a dark

black cherry sauce. I’m walking home

through a district

of porches and tea-lights lighting up backyards and living

rooms. People must love each other

here. Have you ever stayed up drinking

all night and in the morning

wake up feeling like the Irish Republican Army

found out you voted for Home Rule, pushed you in a van

while you slept, and woke you up

by cracking your head open with a metal pipe? I keep thinking

that my life would be better

if I ended up in an abbey with a wooden bowl and a wooden desk

to eat and sleep on. I was feeling alone

and miserable when the chocolates Lagusta sent

arrived in a big white box. Peanut butter cups and triangles

full of coconut and cream, little spicy ones

made with peppers like a Lorca poem. After the first one melted

over my tongue

it was all blue stockings flashing through the grass and springtime

though it’s January, ridiculous

horn sections and string quartets. The chocolates are amazing!

One minute you’re listening to Leonard Cohen,

looking around the house for a razor

you can run along your arm without the worry of fainting,

and the next your mouth is full

of vulva-shaped bonbons, you’re speaking French, writing apologies

to all the women you’ve kissed, cutting

everything red into the shape of a heart, breaking

like a storm and then forming again into a kind of brave, beautiful, parade.

6 thoughts on “Vulva-Shaped Bonbons By Matthew Dickman

    • ahhh! YES! that’s one of my next projects–i have the wall all picked out, i just need to get the fancy letters printed out… I’m so glad you like it as much as I do!

  1. Pingback: 3) Matthew Dickman « resistance is fertile

  2. Pingback: Mayakovsky’s Revolver and that day my heart got run over by a truck. | resistance is fertile

  3. Darkness sucking the light to it’s reflection in hypothetical existence; a piece of dark chocolate that hits the flesh of the bottom of the stomach in fear of never seizing the light. Everything dark pulls together and back and the light struggles to find the missing dark pieces. Nougat spilling over dark chocolate. Brown to say it’s happy and nutty. A creamy texture is mystery solving in white chocolate as to find light independently. The strawberry fruity in leeway of extracting natural sources and a creamy centerpiece of English cream in an egg for it’s tea time and costume parties ahead

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