pretty little pancakes

Non-fiction, 6/4/09

It’s a joyous day, this Pancake Day
when the chef is Logan Aytes

‘Twas once on Mondays, now it’s Fridays(?)
the tradition remains the same

As sunlight shines, the smoke does rise
from skillets atop the range

Two at a time, the hotcakes fry
That scrumptious scent, one can’t deny
Inside the oven, they’re piled high

Soon enough, it’s mow-down time

Whaddya know, they’re sourdough!
With forks in hand, we eat with gusto

They’re whole-grain and delicious plain,
but from a dollop of syrup, one shouldn’t abstain

With ingredients so simple, the flavor’s complex
that first bite is savored, along with the next
It’s breakfast in heaven; it’s better than sex

Well, perhaps the latter is a bit of a stretch

O pancake, how we love thee!
so flat, so soft, and so butt’ry
And if by chance we leave you be

you indurate—voilà! Frisbee!

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