In honor of Mr. Poe’s birthday, I’ll leave here my homage to him that I scribbled years ago, and may he happily spin in his grave.
“On a skillet hot and greasy, cooking eggs just over-easy,
Adding bacon and sausage, breakfast for my sweet Lenore,
By my stove I’m almost napping, suddenly there was a tapping,
Clawing, scratching, mewing, rapping, rapping on my kitchen door.
Cats and kittens came a-lolling, rolling on my kitchen floor.
Tails erect and claws expanding, lolcats bacon demanding:
“Can haz bacon! Fry sum moar!”
I regret nothing.