The Omelet


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

But there’s no awakening from this nightmare.
I’m doomed to eat a poisoned breakfast.

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.
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9 Responses to The Omelet

  1. Cassa Bassa says:

    👍the wisdom in omlelet

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Patty says:

    Lucky you have eggs. 🍳

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Lisa Tomey says:

    Being woke about the yoke…

    Liked by 2 people

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