wjsullivan.net

Overloading the Machine

Omelet

I want to write a cracked egg poem with no yolk.
No, I want to write a jumbo egg poem with two yolks.

Toothpaste running down my freshly shaven chin
I divide my life into embryos of employment

and their locations, dozens of eras
dozens of yolks and the result

is financial and white. Divide
and continue, there is always more

to rerun and review. I don't need
to see the end of this show

the part where
like I said

how would you like your eggs?
Over

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

-- Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol"