Day Twenty On April 20, 2022

“….And now for today’s (optional) prompt. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that anthropomorphizes a kind of food. It could be a favorite food of yours, or maybe one you feel conflicted about. I feel conflicted about Black Forest Cake, for example. It always looks so pretty in a bakery window, and I want to like the combination of cherries and chocolate . . . but I don’t. But how does the cake feel about it?”

Eggs, Being Weird

Scenario: Breakfast.

Eggs on the plate, sunny-side up. Bacon,

stretched out alongside. Eggs don’t like it.

****

“Why you always crowding me?” they ask.

“You’re too crisp, likely to poke a hole in

my big sunny-yellow eye! Getcher own space!”

***

“And, yo, you! Toast! Dried-out pieces

of flour and water! Need butter and jam

for any hint of taste!”

***

“But us, we eggs are versatile, tasty, good

hot or cold, fried, poached or omelette-ified!

And we’re not weird, even for snacks!”

Carol A. Stephen

April 27, 2022