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Posted in hello, moon

If the Moon Wrote an Ode to Bacon…

…And how we all know you’d take one
(or in truth twenty-five)
when the pan passes by
with such crispy deliciousness catching
your eye…

whether candied in maple
or just set on the table
there’s no better treat—
peppered, sizzlin, fried, baked, wrapped, stuffed,
shoved inside
of your mouth when it’s
hot and it’s fresh and we
secretly wish we had
boxes and crates and
a hundred-some plates
for an ongoing feast of this
salty, cured meat
that we

can.

not.

stop.

cravin:

Bacon.