Once upon a midnight munchie, while I pondered weak and hungry,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten carbs,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a popping,
As of something gently lifting, lifting from my toaster's holes.
`'Tis some poet,' I muttered, lifting from my toaster's floor-
Only these two slices, and nothing more.'
-Edgar Allen Poe FrAcTuReD