In a lovely little cafe in Brooklyn
I discovered a delicacy.
It was a light creamy mousse
I had never experienced, flavored of pistachio.
It was pricey, but well worth it.
That year, I order a mess of it for my birthday
and promptly failed to share it with anyone else.

That was all right, though. More for me!
Pistachio Mousse for me for days!

Realizing this was an expensive habit to maintain,
my mother looked into trying to home-make it
and figured out that she could replicate the recipe
basically, with big brand pudding.

I felt a little cheated,
but when I realized I could get it on demand
for a dollar a pop,
I felt like a cheater, too.

Give me that mousse, momma!

If there’s a moral here,
I guess it’s learn how to cook,
but I haven’t taken to that moral yet,
so…uh, yeah.