Oh, Lonely bacon,
Who left you behind?
You were at Taste of Ladera, happy on someone’s plate.
And they dropped you.
Or you jumped.
Why, Lonely Bacon? Why did you get left behind on the grass.
So wrinkled, so salty, alone to bake in the hot California sun.
On that fateful Sunday in that great park,
Where so many restauranteurs came to peddle their wares,
You found solace in no belly.
On that day after the allegedly terrible performance by Sugar Ray.
On that day during the amazing performance by U2 tribute band Hollywood U2.
Perhaps you found the palette of a wandering dog,
Or the blades of an industrial-strength mower.
Grill on, Lonely Bacon.
– Mike