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Eggs

Posted by in on 23-11-13

I’ve tried to fry them
poach them, soft-boil,
Benedict them, approach
to their cooking both

with care and disdain
But it doesn’t much matter
they still explode and splatter
and the results on my plate

are always the same.
It makes no difference
if I use a full can of Pam
or a whole brick

of butter, I am reduced
to uttering curses,
scraping my mistakes
in heaps and gobs,

these diripienda ova
not nearly as good
as they are cracked
up to be. And the yokes!

a cruel joke of medical science,
first good for me then bad,
claimed by my doctor
to lead to huge strokes,

of course worsened when
I make them with huge slabs
of bacon. And omelets from Denver
full of veggies if I remember

to bring them home from the store.
But I vow I won’t quit; my new plan
it is to make a quick quiche
(whatever that is) or tasty soufflés

all puffy and cheesy. No, I remain
hopeful, keeping my sunny side
up to the world, resolved that
this battle will never be over

easy.

Eggs on the Gas Stove
Eggs on the Gas… Pam Ingalls Buy This at Allposters.com

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# of lines in poem:

37

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