Hershey's Got No Baby Ruth (Poem)

Originally, I wrote the poem below for TweetSpeak Poetry*; it incorporates as many different kinds of candy as I could manage. This is the poem's first appearance here, in honor of Valentine's Day.

Hershey's Got No Baby Ruth

Hershey went looking
for his Peppermint Patty,
convinced only she could be
his LifeSaver. No Dum Dum,
he was ready, willing, and able
to go all the way to Mars and back
to bring home a little Bit-o-Honey.

He'd show her Good and Plenty,
climb the highest Almond Mounds,
gladly strip off a 100 Grand
to run a hand through her
Cotton Candy hair. He'd waited so
long, too long, to be her Atomic Fire Ball.

Patty's tastes, alas, ran more
to 3 Musketeers and Lemonheads.
She loved them for their Whoppers,
the way their Chunky Singles' bodies
would sway to the Charleston Chew nightly
at the Heath Bar. How they'd get down
and dirty doing Rolo's famous Tootsie Roll!

But a Sugar Daddy Hershey refused
to be. He'd long ago tired of tending Peeps
After Eight, settling his Sweetarts' Skittles,
giving his time to Smarties whose Snickers
behind his hard if hairy back left him a cold
and not so Jolly Rancher. To hit PayDay,
he'd have to dispense with these Hot Tamales.

Besides, it was true, what his mother
always said: You won't find
your Mary Jane hanging with Mr. Goodbar!

So, no more Hot Lix at his side, Hershey
Jelly-Bellied up to the Symphony Bar,
ordered double Doves with a side of Twix,
noticed how even Junior Mints could mix
with Ghiradelli, their eyes intense, big
as DOTS, their figures slender as Twizzlers,
not one Sour Punch in the bunch.

No Airheads, no Goobers, no Nerds feeding
Nutrageous appetites. Just a room full
of sweet Almond Joys, cool Ricola singing her aria
to the sounds of Original Herb, and sunny-faced
Kit-Kat eying Nestle's Crunch, his caramel arms
all rippling muscle. The Almond King himself
couldn't want for more Amazin' Fruit in one place.

Italian imports? They're the best, Hershey overheard
her say, her voice dark as licorice. Turning, facing
her, feeling Perugina's breathy, minty coolness
on his neck, he just knew. He couldn't miss Starbursts
in her eyes, the way she wrapped herself around
his Butterfinger, covered him with Kisses,
all the while whispering, O Henry! Let's just Take 5.

© 2012-2015 Maureen E. Doallas

* "Candy: A Little Sweet for National Poetry Month", TweetSpeak Poetry, April 6, 2012. You'll find audio of the poem here.