You want me to run with this
egg and spoon, are you mad? I will break
this egg in my hand, and this spoon
I will fling, boomerang spin
to the floor, hope it sticks as I hissy
fit out of here.
Judge me with
an egg in a spoon, are you mad?
I’m the egg. Judge instead
how hard boiled, how well
I hold together as they drop
me from their nest, how nicely
painted for a feast I don’t believe in. Tell me
I am lucky to be born, that life
is precious, full of meaning, tell me
that someone died for me, tell me don’t you dare
break
