Self-Titled Albumen

My thoughts are an egg
Cook for just the right time
And out pops an omelet of meter and rhyme

My thoughts are an egg
Cook for one second less
And then the yolk is all runny, and you cut into it and it gets, you know, it gets all over the plate, and now you’ve got egg yolk soaking into the pancake at the bottom of the stack, and now it’s seeping into the hash browns too, not just a little bit, but like all the way through the hash browns, and it’s just, just, just a godawful mess.

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2 Responses to Self-Titled Albumen

  1. ekosworld says:

    Very nice, Nathan.
    It’s nice how the interpretation of the poem is left to the imagination. We do things without ever stopping to think about why they are the way or they are, or what could go wrong.
    Thanks for this piece. Got me thinking, after a Christmas morning.

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