Bacon, now in poetry form

When you publish a post, WordPress will automatically add “related post” hyperlinks at the bottom, with the idea that people might like to browse from related topic to related topic. Kind of like when you get stuck watching related videos on youtube for hours and hours.

I generally hate the idea.

The problem is that the “auto-generator” usually creates links that are barely related at best, and also tends to give the impression that I have intentionally linked in these posts, or endorsed them in some way. If I’m going to link to something, I’ll link to it. So I disabled the feature.

However, I recently got a ping-back on my Baconfest posts from Salut! Adventures, who had written an honest to goodness bacon poem. Now that’s a related link! In fact, it’s not just a bacon poem, but an awesome bacon poem, which I will now present to you. Although I didn’t write it, I wish I had. Enjoy.

The Vegan – A Baconfest Poem

Once upon a morning dreary, in my bathrobe, wan and weary,

I stood and gazed forlornly at my open icebox door.

There was no breakfast for the makin’, no smoky hardwood bacon,

And it seemed that I would soon be schlepping towards the corner store.

Schlepping sadly to the store.

But then there came a tapping, an annoying kind of rapping

On the wooden frame that stands around my humble kitchen door.

‘Twas my pink and chubby neighbor, come to ask of me a favor,

Come to borrow almond flavor that he knew I had in store.

Only this and nothing more.

“What’s the worry?  Why the hubbub?” asked the portly little cherub,

As he watched me grab my house keys and walk ‘cross the kitchen floor.

I explained I had no bacon, and the toll that it was takin’

As I gave him almond extract and I showed him towards the door.

Showed him firmly towards the door.

“That’s no problem, said my neighbor, “You can get the same great flavor

From the tofu products you can buy at any health food store.

We vegans really love it, and you too will be fond of it,

Really, going without bacon is not that much of a chore.

Not too terrible a chore!”

“Ye Gods!” I spat and sputtered, and some expletives were muttered

As I wrestled with my neighbor like a warring Carnivore.

In a rage I hit and pounded , until suddenly astounded,

I saw a curly, porcine tail slip out onto the kitchen floor.

‘Twas a pig! And nothing more.

An hour later I was sated, with my bacon crave abated,

And I never even had to journey to the corner store.

My freezer now is packed with pounds of bacon, neatly stacked

Enough to last through summertime, and maybe even more.

And my neighbor?  Nevermore.

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