You guys.

Baconfest is right around the corner. On March 31 and April 1, the best chefs in town will gather at the UIC Forum for three bacon-filled sessions to celebrate bacon in all its forms.

You can go to Baconfest!  Tickets are available right now – and we’ve announced new ways to save on admission with Bacon-Only tickets for $60, Bacon Express tickets from $75 or bring a gang of five or more and save with group rates of $65 / ticket.  Those rates are available for advance purchase only, so get thyself to the ticketing page to take full advantage.

We just released the menu for the event and if I do say so myself, reading the list of dishes is like reading a 150-line ode to bacon.  But that’s not the only bacon poetry that we want for Baconfest.  Oh no – the Baconfest Literary Panel’s appetite for porky verse is rivaled only by our appetite for Bacon.

So, here is our call for entries for the 2017 Bacon Poetry contest.  Channel your inner Shakespeare and let those verses fly.

Our literary panel will review all the entries and pick one lucky poet to win:

  • A Golden Rasher Award for Best Poem about Bacon
  • Four (4) VIP Tickets to the session of your choice.
  • A Baconfest Merch Swag Bag – 2 teeshirts, 2 hats, 2 aprons

Here are the details:

  • Submit poems via email to [email protected] – limit one poem per email address
  • Submissions will be accepted between now and 5:00PM on Thursday March 16
  • You must grant Baconfest rights to publish your poem on Baconfestchicago.com and any future anthologies of bacon poetry we publish in the future.
  • You must be willing to read your poem at Baconfest to our adoring crowds (or let one of the members of the Baconfest Literary Panel designate a reader).
  • No Haiku. Unless it’s in Japanese.  I mean, look, we appreciate a finely wrought haiku as much as anybody, but this is a serious contest for serious poems.  A haiku just won’t cut it.

photo by Ben Collins-Sussman.  http://flickr.com/photos/bcollsuss

Need some inspiration?  Here are some of the winning poems from previous years to get those juices flowing.

2016 Golden Rasher Winner

Baconmandias, King of Kings by Joseph S. Pete © 2016

“My name is Baconmandias, king of kings:
Listen to my sizzle, ye Mighty, and hunger!”

I met a baconaut from a delicious land
Who said: “Four crisp and meaty strips of bacon
Fry on the pan. Near them, in my hand,
Half clenched, is a spatula, whose grease
And liquified drippings show bacon’s savory command,
And tell that its eater knows this passion well,
Which burns like cured pork belly on the stovetop.
Lo, turkey bacon is a special kind of hell.
Bacon deserves a pedestal where these words appear:
‘My name is Baconmandias, king of kings:
Listen to my sizzle, ye Mighty, and hunger!’
Nothing on the plate remains. Round the bacony kiss
Of briney, flavorful fat from the rasher.
Bacon’s salty embrace is something you miss.”

2015 Golden Rasher Winner

BaconFest Chicago 2015

Bakin’ Memories by Kiely Dolce © 2015

He wakes early, padding barefoot into the kitchen.
Through half-closed heavy lids
he grinds the coffee, carefully pouring water from the carafe
as not to spill.
The oven springs into action
all his life bacon was made in a pan
his own father peeling the slices from the packaging
placing it into his grandmothers old shallow frying pan.
But now,
he is the man
now he is the dad
and for his family he’s discovered the art of baking bacon
on Sunday mornings for his sleeping wife and child.
The house slowly fills with the scent of melting pork fat
the aroma his only companion for these few minutes he has alone
before the house wakes
and the sizzling strips in the oven become a dazzling display
for the child’s face pressed to the oven door
making new memories
of the meaning of home.

2012 Golden Rasher Winner

The Quantum Dance © 2012 by Ryan Myers

Work.
Traffic.
Family.
All a waste of my precious time.
Every minute I spend away from my porcine mistress, agony.
The experience of the human condition is merely what one must endure between bacons.
I am Schrödinger’s diner, caught in a superposition of states, always simultaneously eating bacon, and not.

I dance the pork belly ballet.

She calls to me, my pancetta princess.

She calls to me, from beyond the vegetable veil.

I hear her. I long for her salty, smoky embrace.
To live without bacon, is not to live.

I love you, bacon.

 

And of course a video of last year’s rendition of Pork-a-lujah, the Golden Rasher Winning official Theme Song of Baconfest Chicago


video by Peter Tsai

  • March 8, 2017