Our poet Barbara Reynolds writes: “These were inspired by my frequent visits to Bloc Cafe. One day I was taken with the sensual act of eating a muffin, which led to memories of the 1940 film Fantasia. Another time led to recurring dreams of a coffee shop existing exclusively for raspberry muffins.”

Barbara Reynolds

Fantasia Erotica

Undressing the muffin
is not a pornographic trope,
although nudity is implied.
Close your eyes and picture
carefully peeling back
the pliant ribs of a paper
baking cup, revealing
a hunk of savory cake –
cornflower yellow
and blueberry flaked –
a stunning debut
of a jaundiced torso –
ringed by a hippo’s tutu.

The Raspberry Muffin

coffee shop can be found
down the backstreet alley
of my dreams
where muffins squat
fat as a stevedore’s fist
in vintage pastry trays,
their crusts arrayed
edge to edge
like honey-red cobblestones.
Seating is slight –
stools, no chairs,
counter, no tables,
and the air sings
with sugary scents
of batter-rich berries
baking in wide-mouthed tins,
luring me in…

— Barbara Reynolds

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