Two pounds of potatoes.
A whole pound of bacon.
Two cups of mayo.
Six eggs and an onion.
I should have stopped when I burned the bacon.
Or when I couldn't peel the hard boiled egg,
but I kept going
and I created a monster.
What could we do with it?
It had to be disposed of.
(Should I bring a flashlight? No. The neighbors might see.)
We didn't have a shovel
so we flung it amongst the trees.
In the ditch behind my house
lies four pounds of culinary carnage.
