Figure 1. The Crumpet

My life is a series of dark early mornings, and getting out of bed can feel like being torn daily from my mother's womb. "I didn't ask to be born, you know" is what I say, outloud, from under the heavy flannel blanket that keeps me safely pinned down throughout the night.

But as I'm heaving the blanket aside and exposing myself to any number of chills, I know what awaits me in the kitchen. Something as warm and porous as my own beating heart. Prepare to wax.
The contradictory answer to the English Muffin, in the form of an epic sestina-- The Crumpet. No bisecting, no crumbs, no things but good feelings.

I have a feeling that the world's most beautiful person, who happens to have an advanced degree in Theoretical and Applied Surface Tomography, sat down with some English Muffins and quite a bit of Ecstacy, and wrote recipe-poems until The Crumpet was described.
In fact, it is through one of those very pores that Jodie Foster traversed space-time in "Contact." No words.