Ode to the Zoka Bar

O Zoka Bar, O Zoka Bar!
How you ruined my diet without sugar.
I walk into Zoka, and look in the case.
Last time I was there, you were gone.
Today, you smile at me.
"I don't need a Zoka Bar today," I tell the barista.
"But sometimes you do need a Zoka Bar," she says.
So I take one.

You are big enough to share with my whole family,
but my whole family is not here.
I nibble at your edges, savoring each
chocolate
nutty
peanut butter
condensed sweet milk
coconut
graham cracker crust
bite.

In college, you were the seven layer bar, but now you have grown
into something larger and yummier than before.

I nibble away but keep your rectangular shape so I can't tell
how much I've eaten.

My friends couldn't meet today
so you join me with my gunpowder green tea.
You wipe away all benefits of the antioxidants.

I bring you home.
You are my crack, my meth, my amphetamines.

But you aren't.
You are my sedative, putting me to sleep at two in the afternoon.
I was tired to start, but you shove me over the edge.

I come home, and make truffle popcorn and order Mr. Gyros for dinner--
other delicious foods to distract me from your brilliance.
They fail. I dream about you as I walk the dog.

Jack and the Boy aren't home tonight,
It is just me and Claire-Adele.
I offer her a bite, to share, so I will not
Devour the whole thing.
"It is good, but not good enough for me to eat more."
Damn her self-control!!!
Leaving me with the remaining 3,000 calories.

I cut small bites, mere morsels, to savor.
My stomach bloats, rebels, but my tongue demands more
Though the rest of my body says stop.

O Zoka Bar, O Zoka Bar!
How you ruined my diet without sugar.