Alphabet Poem #2

The B poem.

Burn to a crisp—one hour on medium-low heat while the dryer and the dishwasher drown out the fan over the stove so you forget that you’re cooking anything, flip, repeat.

This, of course, is the obvious answer to the age-old question,
‘How do you make a hockey puck out of a pork chop?’

(1 November 2016—posted November 2nd)