And now, some Bad Poetry© based on a dinner at EPCOT’s San Angel Inn (which is very dark, if you’ve never been, or even if you have).
This also sings well to the tune of “I’m a Baby Bumblebee”, in case that helps you, or even if it doesn’t.
There’s a blob of something on my fork
Might be chicken, maybe beef or pork, it’s
Covered in a tasty sauce with cheese
Could somebody tell me what I’m eating please?
© 2010, Michael’s Bad Poetry