Drop an egg,
See the splatter
Of microcosmic
Universal matter.

wind is coming in
sun is just showing
horses are watered
fire is glowing

movement is starting
the camp is awake
cookie is working
there's breakfast to make

no fancy croissants
or drinks laced with toffee
this is good solid food
and strong cowboy coffee

it gets it's job done
it ain't always so nice
later on in the day
it gets served by the slice

mud, java, joe
it's got lots of names
and at each cowboy camp
it still tastes the same

grounds at the bottom
thick as coal tar
without cowboy coffee
you will not go far

eggs, beans and bacon
and bread texas thick
to wipe up what's left
and get every lick

here out on the trail
you won't find any toffee
we eat solid grub
and we drink cowboy coffee

The eccentrics and the madmen do cook up this routine world.
Scrambled eggs on an old *** simmering.
You're a bloke, ya yolk!
evoke my jokes!
now scramble my sides!
and leave me to choke!
consume me like you do all things else in this life!
As Vonnegut would call it
"A Breakfast of Champions"

i've scrambled
trying to find the whites of my eyes
(have i cracked yet?)
it all boils down to the thoughts i've poached from others
(i exist to create, not to consume)
i tried looking at the world sunny-side up, but the devil in me broke the yoke that i used to share with Jesus.

It is.
Out the back door
into the woods.
Running
free to live with
its own cold kind.
Love it?
Then let it go.
I love you but
I wouldn't
let you go. Oh
absolutely,
I couldn't.

I crack an egg over the pan,
And drizzle it with salt

The oil seethe with anger,
As the sides of the egg turns brown

I push a spatula between the egg and the pan,
Then I slowly lift it and transfer it to a plate

The yolk wiggles in a funny motion
A whiff reaches my nose and it lingers for a while
The last one joins the other plates on the table.

All eggs were in one basket,
so no wonder you're reserved ever since they broke.
Shells are messy and hard to work with.
She gave you eggs the last time. But I'm not her.
Let's not give each other eggs.

Let's give ourselves bread instead.
Because all your bread in a basket sounds warm,
picnics in parks on sunny days warm.

Or fresh out the oven still steaming hot.
Frosted and sweet, or sourdough. All your bread in one basket,
there's so much to work with.
Even cold bread, and stale bread.
Because at least when molding bread falls out
of your metaphorical basket you can pick it up
in one piece and put it back.
Or make more. You can fix it.

Eggs aren't that easy. They shatter. They're messy.
So my dear let's not be eggs. Let's be bread.

i dont need to explain why my mouth becomes a half-written dictionary
words like 'um' and 'like' and 'yeah' and 'ha' all pour out at alarming rates and you try and remain mysterious while i just try and remain
so i’ll sleep with you at your parents house and thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me stay
and when you make me breakfast with beans and eggs, i’ll pretend that i don’t see the bacon floating around
i’ll just toss my fork right down the garbage disposal and say hello to your mother and walk your dogs
and i’ll get interrupted while writing about you and i’ll be grateful for it
and that fork is still chugging in the garbage disposal

and please, let me down easy when you dont feel the same
have your mom wave goodbye as we drive down the street

An eggzample of eggzactly
What is meant by "eggcentricity"
Is dancing round an egg on the ground
And shouting "O Felicity".