Random Poetry and Cake

Open up a book of poetry and see what you find. Here's mine:

The Cure

Lying around all day
with some strange new deep blue
weekend funk, I'm not really asleep 
when my sister calls
to say she's just hung up
from talking with Aunt Bertha
who is 89 and ill but managing
to take care of Uncle Frank
who is completely bedridden.
Aunt Bert says
it's snowing there in Arkansas,
on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't been
able to walk out to their mailbox.
She's been suffering 
from a bad case of the mulleygrubs.
The cure for the mulleygrubs,
she tells my sister,
is to get up and bake a cake.
If that doesn't do it, put on a red dress.

Ginger Andrews, via Garrison Keillor's Good Poems for Hard Times

Do it yourself and tell me what you find.