Bacon Wrapped Nest Keg

There are many investments in life I wish that I'd bought,
savings tips I wish that my magazine reading had taught.
But the realization I'm now having a little too late,
is that the answer was right there by my dinner plate.
In fact, one is in my entree and the other lies near...
because the investments I missed out on are bacon and beer.

I can't believe I didn't guess they'd increase in value,
it seems like something I would've figured out if I'd tried to.
I've been living on BLTs and Broccoli Salad with Bacon.
I guess those were the first two hints I should have taken.
It appears I wasn't the only person to sub bacon for beef,
nor to drink micro brewed beer for their daily stress relief.

I even know of a recently invented recipe for fried beer...
it won Texas State Fair's "most creative" prize this year.
And if I ever decide I want to mix the two flavors,
I'll refer to this post on bacon beers one blogger savors.
I even have a plan for the next time I'm feeling depressed:
giving the maple bacon donut a long overdue taste test.

But despite all the bacon and beer plans that I've had,
I didn't think to invest and it makes me real sad.
Perhaps pork belly futures are still worth the price,
maybe I could find a micro brew stock that looks nice.
You can be certain I'll be watching what goes on my plate,
trying to foresee the next investment trend before it's too late.

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 All rights reserved.


This rhyme is being shared in Poetry Potluck Week #26.
Click on over to get your poetry indulgence fix.


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Feeling Lucky?

(A bonus poem and contest for all of my fans.  I hope life brings you luck whenever it can.)

 

Sometimes I feel like a little spoiled rotten brat,

because although I won this, I'd rather have that.

I have strange luck at scoring myself tickets to shows,
yet continue to whine about my other life woes.
For nearly six years I've lived in a little doll house.
It's a bit more than rustic - my cat has a pet mouse.
Sill, it's affordably priced and conveniently located...
and my extra income must be lost or post dated...
because each time I check my balance online,
there is not enough money.  It's not moving time.
Perhaps I could find a guest house like the Quaids,
and live as a happy squatter the rest of my days.
Still I think I'd wish for my own simple living space,
and hope to win lots of money to make it a cooler place.

© Rachel Hoyt 2010

Arpaio Anxiety

Note: this poem can be sung to the tune of Allan Sherman's song, "Camp Granada".

Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,
Please retire in Santa Barbara.
Arizona's quickly changing,
Joe Arpaio's posse's rants the world estranging.

The last time I came for a visit,
I heard that he had gone ballistic.
You remember Xochil Peña?
Her poor grandma was harrased at work in Mesa.

All the smart guys seem to hate him,
and he refuses to debate them.
All the times he talks in public,
it seems he thinks he already runs his own Republic.

I'm surprised it doesn't scare ya,
that your neighbors often dare ya,
to volunteer with Arpaio's cronies,
'cuz they've loved him since he began with the pink chonies.

Please leave home, oh muddah fadduh,
stay with me, it's not a bother.
Don't stay there out in the desert where
the crazies think they know what's fair.

Please leave home, I promise you a fun filled time,
fresh produce and good local wine,
oh please don't make me beg,
that state's become a rotten egg.

Dearest Fadda, darling Mudda,
how's my precious, doggie brudda?
I can't wait to, let him kiss me.
Hurry over and admit you also miss me.

Wait a minute, the plan is failing,
crazy's spreading, saneness is flailing.
If he tries to, can we stop this?
Could Arpaio actually win the oval office?!

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 - 2011

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