If I ever made a waffle iron
that could render any image
crisped in golden batter,
I would make sure it had
a battery pack and a strap;
then I’d sling it over my
shoulder and hit the road.
I’d stand on bridges in the
cold, gray morning, call out
to people who seemed to
most need waffle portraits.
This I would do for free,
and I’d turn down offers
from Bisquick, Hungry Jack.
The local media would
get wind; I’d make waffles
of weathermen and anchors,
on-the-scene reporters,
all displayed over the last
notes of the theme song
that brings the morning
news to a close. It would
go downhill from there.
I would be accused of
making someone’s wife
look “too doughy,” and
IHOP would post notices
in all its prefab chalets
saying I was a threat
and possibly insane.
Eventually, I would write
my goodbye in a waffle,
leave it for the pigeons,
melt away just as the sun
slides over the earth’s
heavy, broken edge.
For NaBloPoMo and PAD Challenge, Day 12 (prompt: write about a technology that doesn’t exist yet).
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
I see the irony and the knowing in this, but the laugh sitting at the surface got me (and still has me in its clutches).
Oh, good! I wanted the laugh, too. Thanks!
Hours later and I am still chuckling about refusing offers from Bisquick and the likely machinations of IHOP. Thanks for adding mirth to my evening work.
You’re more than welcome, and thanks so much for letting me know!
The ending made me go “ahhh. . . ” Very well done, start to finish.
I love it! Clever, but more than just clever.
Fantastic! You’d be known in legend as The Guerrilla Waffler: Defender of the Image in Delicious Breakfasts for the People, and Bane of Corporate Carbohydrates.
This poem itself is a sweet and buttery invention!
Yes, I was picturing some type of folk hero, with the strap resembling a bandolier. Thanks, Jennifer!
I did truly enjoy your poem. Great imagination you have there. You had me lol-ing for real.
Thanks so much! That’s great to hear.