waffle-full.

friends.
i don't have too many.
so the ones i've got matter a lot.
my number one soemtimes shows up like a surprise,
and stays for a super short span of time.
there's food, and loudness, and freshness,
and all sorts of being expert;
but it's all concentrated into a condensed
and dense matter of mere hours.
that sort of supercharged serious business is rad, for sure,
but the bar gets set pretty high for the next day,
sans activated interaction with worldly warriors of poetic participation.
yikes.
so,
whenever the cucch leaves,
there's a helluva void left in his wake.
awwwwwwww.
so.
how do we repair that?
with waffles.
c'mon.
don't be dumb.
i'm just sayin',
if i've got seventy five pounds of dented doublecrisp cakes
in my bellyhole,
there's no room in there left over for hollow feelings.
check the breakfast-of-champions-type teleport:

yuuuup!!
oatmeal, corn flour, a tiny smidge of coconut, double butter,
and extra brown sugar inside of those manhole covers, kids.
plus,
a custom demerara and vanilla-cinnamon spiced buttery batch
of walnut/pecan pralines on top?
heck yes.
and all of it drizzled with real maple syrup,
because table syrup is for A*-holes.
and that's word-up real talk.
*
i miss this guy already:

the kitchen isn't as explosive,
the floor isn't as occupied,
the walls aren't resounding with the ever increasing volume of
loud freshness our hard styles embody.
it's a real bummer when he bounces back down south.
(and the waffle explosion was yesterday.)
i need a copilot sometimes, neighbors.
i mean,
a no-jokes ride-or-die-type duder.
y'know?
my very best buddy is a great one.
it's always good to see the guy;
never quiet, never soft.....