the cake

people nibble at my
cake, the cake I spent
nearly thirty five minutes
making. not counting
the icing.
someone asks
who made this, to which I
shrug and say,
I don't know but
it's great isn't it?
I think i'll have another piece.
it's too sweet,
someone says, putting her
plate down,
and it needed to bake
another ten minutes.
it's soft in the middle.
I hate box cake mixes
the woman sitting next
to me says.
so lazy.
look how it sits in the pan,
unbalanced,
the icing is uneven
a man says with a pinky
in the air.
a monkey could make
this cake.
I think about making
monkey noises, but don't,
instead whisper, so
true. so true as I lick
the icing off my fork.