dark choc’late inside
flaky pastry layers out
thank you Julien’s


how do I love thee, let me count the ways
starting with your flaky butter layers
I so look forward to my Saturdays
ignore my caloric intake naysayers

with hope run rampant through my eager heart
I make my trek to Bedford Pete’s Frootique
and lo the waves of people I do part
and upon the bak’ry section I sneak

with anticipation I scan the shelf
and waiting to glimpse the buttery form
I manage to snag the last for myself
in awe of precisely parisienne form

then paid for, alas, it does not get far
no restraint, I eat once back in car