We remember Petey the best way we know how… through bacon

While under quilt I did repose,
sleep fighting ‘gainst the light,
a perfect odor met my nose.
Waked at once, feet took flight,
sure and swift-footed ’til I spied
a dark, smoked confection.
Sweet, to crackling crispiness fried.
Bacon! food perfection!

A charger piled with bacon, I
did scarf, then looked for more.
The cook gave me the evil eye,
booted me out the door.
So, now, a guest I’ll be no more
in homes where bacon’s served.
~The Grocery Cart Poet

Ree-purrted by Sophia



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