Two large truth eggs whipped
in exaggeration
in contradiction to white flour.
A pinch of myth
at the start and at the end.
Unfiltered jokester
to raise the dry ingredients
when folded in
the dark red glass bowl
holding warm
slightly narrative milk.
Think about how
it will have fun on the tongue
plump raisins of
surprising rhetorical bite.
The cook looks
into a tangy and disputable
future giving
you what you needed without
knowing until
you hear it in your two
hungry ears.
Don’t forget to savor and
say thanks.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
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