All of the recipes were a form
of defense—a highly
developed system of
culinary martial arts
designed to chop, shred, slice
and disintegrate
the zucchini,

which proliferates at
an astounding rate so
that it appears
like a sly green jack-in-the-box
under every wide leaf
and fills the baskets and covers
the kitchen counters until
the conscientious
and careful cook can do
nothing but bake and
bake.

One summer we ate
even the flowers, dipped
in batter and deep-fried
to a golden crisp.
Covering yours
in maple syrup, you said
“not bad”—just
like you said
the bread
didn’t taste at all
like zucchini.