Exalted eggs
sell lent egg salad
to eggshells.
Egg beaters
beat her
for the better
of the better
eggs.
Yokes of the yokel
yolks
choke the yolks
they’re meant to yoke.
Though runny and broken,
run he and broke in.
****** he,
dumped he,
leaving all the eggs
in eggshells.
These saddest fractions,
in shattered
silence, sigh “Let’s
decompose.
Let’s be compost.
Let’s become a flower.”
But on the wind
they twist,
they wind,
they rose.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 5:17 PM UTC
Exalted eggs
sell lent egg salad
to eggshells.
Egg beaters
beat her
for the better
of the better
eggs.
Yokes of the yokel
yolks
choke the yolks
they’re meant to yoke.
Though runny and broken,
run he and broke in.
****** he,
dumped he,
leaving all the eggs
in eggshells.
These saddest fractions,
in shattered
silence, sigh “Let’s
decompose.
Let’s be compost.
Let’s become a flower.”
But on the wind
they twist,
they wind,
they rose.
Request permission to use this poem