Sex Stories and Food

All my sex stories always start off

                          with what we ate for dinner,

             and of course, I remember that fancy

                                       Dragon Roll in Phoenix, Arizona

that lit up on my birthday, and no,

             I usually wouldn’t order something so Americanized,

                          but the damn thing lit up, a fire-breathing

dragon for a hungry Chinese girl at her birthday party,

             and if you want fun, always add a little fire,

                          and my order’s usually fresh nigiri all the way,

and I’ve watched videos on how the California Roll

                                       was invented, and it’s so Cali, so surf culture

with its avocado right in the middle, and I think it’s sad

             that most versions don’t actually come

                          with crab meat, and I think about images of women

in the movies, letting their lovers eat sushi right off

                                       their bodies, and I wonder if I would ever pull

                          such a stunt, and he tells me on the phone that he likes me

             in red lipstick, which is a relief, because most men are afraid

                          of getting a little messy all over their cheeks

and bodies, but think about how endearing it is in cartoons

                          when Minnie is so excited to see Mickey that she gifts him

             red kiss marks all over his cheeks, and you’ve got to admit

                          that everyone has a soft spot for that,

             and instead of sushi all over my body,

I’d rather straight up feed my man some

                          fatty tuna, wash it down with cold sake,

spoil him a little, then take charge, then let him

             take charge, back and forth, and for a good time,

                          call me, but I’m warning you: I’ll be talking

about the food rather than the sex,

                                       because I’m such a tease,

             and yes, I’ve been called that term a million times,

                          as if I owe anyone anything in this world,

and I remember the 4 AM French fries after

             the midnight fishbowls full of Blue Curacao and assorted

alcohols and plastic animal toys, and here’s a tiger,

                                       here’s a cow, here’s a dinosaur, meaning here’s

                          my father represented in the Chinese Zodiac,

             ere’s a farm animal, and here’s prehistoric times,

                                                    in one toy, and do you ever wonder

                                       what a prehistoric times restaurant

             would be like, because we already have Medieval Times,

and who doesn’t love dinosaurs, and think about

                          those large plates and plates of turkey legs

             or how about JELL-O eggs for dessert,

                                       and I love a little childlike whimsy, and

I love saving hotel room keys for a little sentimental value, remembering

                          those afternoons spent in a dreamboat’s arms,

             a couple of laughs, and I always laugh, remember

                                       the room number, what happened in the elevator

on the way back, looking back, and it’s like when I collected

             Happy Meal toys as a kid, and as a kid,

                          I loved the scene in The Phantom Tollbooth

when the characters deliver speeches

             at dinner, listing their favorite foods,

                          only to be served those exact foods, and I always think

about what my lineup would be: lobster ravioli and Lobster Wellington

             and Peking Duck and of course, loaded desserts with

                          lychee and longan and cherries and a couple slices of

             grapefruit cake with grapefruit drizzle and poached pears

                                       and peaches, and I told you that I’d rather talk

             about the food than the sex, and let’s go around the subject,

because I’m a tease. I’m a tease. I’m a tease.