Raymond A. Foss Poems

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Omelet of egg, on the plate
on the fork, into his mouth,
not that last time
and it tasted so good…
and, no one was around
to see him break
the five-second rule
But, where was the egg?
Not on the dirty floor,
the plate, even his lap.
Nestled in the folds,
dripping ketchup,
at the bottom,
of the breast pocket,
of his dress oxford.
And the fork found it there
and into his mouth, finally,
Mmmm. Screw the five-second rule;
It was good.

March 7, 2008
a true story,
shared at the Agape Café
http://www.agapecafe.org/

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