I feel the crawling acid of pineapple nectar, that chemical that eats you back. Citric acid right up front, thin and bright. The pucker tapers quickly, then withholds. This love-bombing is textbook avoidant behavior. It tempts me not to lick and suck, but to destroy.

Nerds Candy Corn is a conceptual train wreck. Halloween no longer points back to the harvest. It points back to itself, a combination of nostalgia loops and novelty arms races.

In the long wake of the Cup, the Pieces were born. Why, with Cup in hand, H.B. Reese chose to fracture and reforge its peanut heart, we will never know. The results are as cruel as they are delicious.

The candy that most resembles a meal, a candy most nourishing if left uneaten.

This is the sort of candy you can't kill cleanly.

Necco wafers, immortal and brittle, hold a mantra that swallows the universe.