They say baking
is precise, a
science, a measured
equilibrium often
dis-, not to taste.
Under previous
conditions, the
barometric
ignorance of the
top of the stove
made the belly
a fell place to
try to grumble
heat. To copy,
line for line,
a sheet of music,
is art in training,
the scales, scaling
the ladder of
definite outcome
and regressions
of crispy possibility.