| Jonathan Berger's Poetry: Poem of the Day |
| THE HEALING POWER OF BACON When I was young, my father first told me about the healing power of bacon. "Son," he said, "You're growing up now. It's time you learned a few things." He took me to the back shed where a pig was being stripped before my eyes. "This," my father said, "is the font of all goodness in the world. Behold this, the pig!" "Dad," I said, "We're jewish." He ignored me. "From the ham comes wisdom. From the sausage, beauty. From the pork chop, justice, and from bacon, a hearty healthy constitution." I nodded sagely as I often had to when my father spake. "Come now, son," he said, hand on my shoulder lovingly, "Let us get some eggs. And," he smiled, "bacon." He died the next year, a hasiddic chocophile for 17 months. It is rumored that the turkey lobby was behind it, but I can't believe that. If perhaps he had continued to worship at the altar of the swine, would this have happened? Would he be gone? I cannot say. All I know is, through all the years, all the breakfasts, through the vegetarian bars and the pork palaces, I have never forgotten my father's words on... the healing power of bacon. |