Belinda Nelson

Scrambled Eggs - Poem by Belinda Nelson

You do not shout at yourself
If you are keeping you
From your work
From your passions
From scrambled eggs
Drenched in Tabasco
I still refuse to touch
With a fork

You do not come home
L o o s e n
Your tie
You do not button
Change your socks
Who cares where you've stepped
You're in the company of your own breath!

I adore you - don't make me laugh
You are not the good church going boy!
You undressed all the good church going girls!

You did not understand what it was to have nothing
And someone tall asked to borrow your eyes
Wiped their thick lenses with his shirt
Said something… told you his name
Said something…slept on your father's side of the bed
Said something…
Said something - you were scared
And your hair had not even been blonde anymore

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 24, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, September 26, 2012

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