Explore "Ballade of the Breakfast Table" by Franklin P. Adams on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the Festal Board, as the papers say, / Groans 'neath the weight of a lot to eat, / At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeuner, / (As a bard tri-lingual I'm rather neat) / At breakfast, then, if I may repeat, / This is what gets me into a huff, / This is a query I cannot beat: / Why don't they ever have spoons enough?
I've broken my fast with the grave and gay, / With hoi polloi and with the elite; / I've been all over the U. S. A. / From Dorchester Crossing to Kearney Street. / But aye when I sit in the morning seat / Comes to my notice the self-same bluff, / Plenty of food, but in this they cheat: / Why don't they ever have spoons enough?