I'm known for my love of bacon around the office, and just yesterday a co-worker e-mailed me a poem simply entitled "An Ode to Bacon". Here it is, for your bacon-loving approval:
An Ode to Bacon
When I am down, my spirit shaken
I can always turn to the comfort of bacon.
So crispy, so hot, so perfect and nice
I'll extol your virtues much more than thrice
Pink and white, in the package you sit
Until fried up for a scrumptious hit
With eggs, a burger, on pizza or alone
Or even on top of an ice cream cone
You're a thing of style, of beauty, of class
Always there for me when I fail to get ass
You lift me from a blackened mood
You're heaven-sent, my favorite food
In the worst of times, the most infernal
The joy you bring me springs eternal
The sight, the smell, the grease, the crunch
Perfect at dinner, breakfast, or lunch
Your splendor health nazis do not deserve
Though it would throw them for a curve
You are my joy - my life, my pride
You are my anti-suicide
Each night I pray will come the days
When everyone will sing your praise