On the menu:

chocolate chip pancakes

under chocolate sauce topping.

And without say,

a complementary side

of butcher cut bacon.

A decadent breakfast

for a fit mountain man

whose perfunctory meals

are sans sweetmeat.

(A father who considers

a foil wrapped Kiss

on his melted tongue,

a sporadic indulgent

dopaminergic treat.)

And the artless betrayal

of his quotidian temperance

reverberates joy (and sugar)

in his veins and mind.

Because with each bite

of that saccharine sweet

nostalgia’s made permanent

with memories complete.