The way I like it.

Pretense, perfect, in a pan:

Eggs got laid but not a man!


Butter goes in first to fill

the cast iron pores and (if you will) it makes it smooth

so nothing sticks.

Not lunatics before the dawn,

not guys with pink salt and a yawn

and pepper too.

Of course, it’s fresh-ground, wouldn’t you?

Pretense all around you see

and how I like it all to be

in early morning;

here’s your warning.

Wanted: eggs. Before the coffee.

Then, we set about the task of coming up with other words that rhyme with “coffee.”


Happy Sunday, everyone.

God, quick question: which came first . . .?