I've spelunked through the iris of the Mona Lisa's eyelids
For an echo of the anecdote Da Vinci told for smiling
I hypothesized a ratio for jam glazed icing to preserve
The sweet taste of this recipe I'm trying for this outing
My a**ociates procure a trip routing. I want
Ansel Adams ambiance, not rampant overcrowding
But to dampen on the day at hand, the nimbus over clouding
Skim the works of Robert Browning, thought maybe God was frowning
I chip some crushed ice with the pick that probed Trotsky
Play a pickup game of tonsil hockey in my iced coffee
Now, lunch goes properly and it's time to try the product
I ginsu a slice deep as Rockefeller's wallet pocket
Whipped cream dollops. Yes, I channel Jackson
Pollack in the manner of my people. Hands on
Unpolished on my culinary knowledge
But, I felt that you'd see promise
And focus on what matters
Cause on the subject of what matters
You got essays and dossiers
You're Antoine Lavoisier
But not today
You tuck away one bite before your gums flap
Throwing shade enough to set the sun back, like
"None of that."
So you can't stand my cobbler
Leave me in the lurch, now I'm Frankenstein's Monster
Leave me in the dust, but I'm used to being grounded
Used to being the dog being hounded
So perhaps I overmade it. Set the Kenmore to preheat and
Didn't quite account for my own chakra emanations
Vibrating. Microwaving, burning crust beyond the saving
That caramelized trans fat drained during baking
I am nothing if not my flaws accumulations
Suffered worse humiliation at the hands of sharper captors
My rolodex of cooking days has seen much darker chapters
I'm the last words of Voltaire, told through method actors
And this pastry?
I factor in the overall equation of a
Long term process operation
Picnibus
So you lack intestine line strength to stomach how I grow!?
Well, then I'm better off with Estragon, waiting for Godot
Bro, food science states that
Only tension kneads the dough
And I'd rather not get raw
Though it stays a
Stone's throw away
From this enclosed grove
Where we choose to spend our leisure
I'd stop going to picnics, but I'm not getting any lazier
Though, Yellowstone's only hours drive away from Glacier
And I'd be there in a day, sure. That'd be Occam's Razor
But that sh**'s not apparent to neutrinos in my nature
Not today, sir