"Rich, Chocolaty Goodness"

When Pynchon’s poor deejay

   	Mucho Maas

begins to lose it, late

   	in the novel,



he imagines a chorus

   	of voices

all intoning “rich chocolat-

   	y goodness”



over and over over midnite

   	radio.  He

finds a curious fate

   	and comfort there.



Now ads pushing 

   	chocolate

seem rare--here, at any rate.

	   Instead, we’ve



got hyperactive Ginzu knives.

	   But making

border crossings into deepest

	   and quaintest



suburbia are Italia’s own

   	concoctions--

connoli, tiramisu, latte--

	   far beyond



Hershey’s poor, pale, and (if I

   	may say so)

Anglo excuses for a just

   	dessert.  So



eat and drink and all attest:

   	with life,

as with dessert, all the best

	   is bittersweet.