I ordered cottage cheese pancakes with bacon on the side.
I’d heard they were delicious, so I took it in my stride
when I saw them on the menu, not thinking it absurd
until I took my first big bite and bit into a curd.
So what if cottage cheese had lumps? I thought it wouldn’t matter.
I thought somehow that they’d be blended smoothly in the batter.
Not so, I found, attempting to mash them with my fork.
and take a bite of pancake, then a bite of pork.
The pork and syrup didn’t help this dish lumpy and pallid.
It still tasted like breakfast that was conjoined with a salad!
By the time I’d drunk my coffee down to its last dregs
and tried to hide my pancakes under my scrambled eggs,
my friends were finishing their meals, replete and smacking lips,
settling their bills and figuring their tips.
Their breakfasts were not strange ones—neither oddly-paired nor lumpy.
Nothing in today’s cuisine had left them starved and grumpy.
They went on to see a matinee and other day’s adventures,
while I went home to pry the curds out of my brand new dentures!
Next time I’ll order scrambled eggs, an omelet or a waffle,
not chancing more exotic fare potentially awful.
The prompt work today is partake.