Unusual Bacon. Poem by Mike Berriman

The bacon lay crisping in the bottom of the pan.
Protein no carbs for this working man
With thick scrambles eggs, this meal once a week
No further offerings should a hungry man seek.

My coffee was brewing, hot black and strong
The two toast were tanning a good way along
Some butter had softened now easy to spread
Making more toast from thick wholemeal bread.

Our paper had arrived, unrolled then spread flat
One dog had been fed and so too the cat
The kitchen light was off, a likely blown globe
I wore slippers and sox and an old scarlet robe.

I scooped up the bacon and buttered the toast
Spreading it thickly more unhealthy than most
And adding the eggs, piling all on the top
Then stepped back and sighed, admiring the lot.

Now this was a feast and I had to say
Enough fuel was here to get through the day
Taking a great bite, my jaws did rebound
A moan of regret my only one sound

I looked at my plate, my breakfast delight
I glimpsed something foreign, not in plain sight
My jaws had stopped short, for I held in my hand
It came off our paper, a giant rubber band.

Now this be the paradox, bacon eaters beware
When cooking or feasting please have a care
Check your ingredients and don't work without light
Lest you be transfixed, and die from the fright.

MB 2016