I had just one job:
“Watch the bacon, don’t burn it.”
Forgive me, I’ve sinned.
I love poetry. But I'm picky.
No one pays me to read and write poems. It's more of a labor of love. I guess that puts me in good company. This is a project to discover why some poems strike you deep, deep down, while others leave you cold. I've got some ideas, and I'm eager to learn. I'll show you some of mine. Maybe we'll learn something new.
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2 thoughts on “Burnt bacon haiku”
Bacon black as tar
Yet you still had to eat some
Love affair gone south
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Ha! Jan, you’ve got talent too!