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.