Mass Of Rock For Breakfast Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

What purring chicken
hatched to have its egg
tossed into a chef's
hot morning pan for
a perched tuscan sun

spraying light to its
salmon and scarlet sides,

a sizzling breakfast
flattening out at the bottom
into a goldfish
and tangerine coral pool,

its yolk sitting, flung out
with the sun's
crowned rays behind a peaked
warm horizon rising,

rising steadily in drifts
to meet the hanging
blonde dandelion
and fire sky puffed out,

as it still rises and rises
into a flat-topped
hill bubbling with a daisy

rocky mass swelling up
to meet a rose candy world
above, a ceiling beneath
the broody growl

of another hen perched
on the raised height
of its hay-and-dry grass bed
hard at work to spill
other rolling warmer eggs.

(ii)

The floating breakfast sits
before wet-mouthed guests
staring at its flowery
shifting mass, as it spins

on moving wheels
steered by a silver fork
and a knife slicing
it into ovals and triangles.

The cream and tawny
spice-sprayed sunshine
rocky egg breaks down
to its contours

frothing with the egg's
gleaming white
expanding its territory
a shimmering crystal tray.

But the sprayed egg's
rocky torso lying
in the tray flowing

in light grease to its cliff,
edges of a hill
spinning in its shark
and dolphin gray body
amid a sea

of faces darting glances
at each other,
as I clear my throat
to climb the rocky flat
sun-lit brightening hill

of a breakfast
already jumping
into the deepening tunnel
of a sinking throat,

as an early morning
tossed high up,
its goldenrod yolk
gulped down

to hide in the bowels
of a day
to sketch slithering
lightning across the sky,

as my stomach
thunders into a growl,
and I must feed
a sky's yelping dog.

(iii)

O rising mountain
crowned
with a fire peak,
the tip
of a sunny height,

a melting egg yolk
sitting on the pinnacle
of a brown rock,

a glittering sunny summit
I must climb
to gulp down my full
colorful breakfast
sitting in a crystal tray.

How the river
in my mouth drowns
spices I drink in,

as I flip out my fork and knife
to chop down
the rising spirals
from a rocky steam of breakfast.