
The Omelet
I unbroke that rotten egg
right before it dropped
into the bowl thus saving
the omelet.
It was just a fevered dream
that my fellow voters
insisted they loved the smell
of sulfur
and black spots in the yolk
were nothing to worry
about— just some added
seasoning.
But there’s no awakening from this nightmare.
I’m doomed to eat a poisoned breakfast.
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About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
👍the wisdom in omlelet
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Omelets are the wisest breakfast.
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Even it’s spoty and specks?
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You’ll certainly learn something if you eat one like that.
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I will ponder on that one….☺
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Lucky you have eggs. 🍳
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They’re poetic eggs so I’m not sure if they count.
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Being woke about the yoke…
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Ha!
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