Wednesday 23 September 2009

The Breakfast Man

He comes on Sunday mornings
To my sleep-syrup bed
With softboiled starling eggs
Cupped in his palms.
He balms my lips
With bacon fat
And spreads me soft
Like butter
As he slides the still-warm eggs inside
And turns to sausage
In my mouth

14 comments:

  1. i'm going to go out on a limb here and say - i don't think this is about breakfast!

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  2. Holey mackeral! That is Sack Posset with linebreaks and it is stunningly brilliantly amazing.

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  3. So... what's for brunch?

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  4. I've never thought sausage could be so nice.

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  5. Good poem!

    Good way the start the day.

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  6. food and lust are my two favorite things, caliguless.

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  7. hmmmm...sounds like you found your missing passion.

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  8. But seriously, guys, why HAS no-one invented a bacon condom? WHY?

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  9. Nobody has thought to slice bacon that thick. Quick, off to the patent office you go!

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  10. I could corner the luxury market with Parma ham.

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  11. But the swine supply will draw low and the government'll need to find some other animal to blame a disease on!

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  12. Otters. I have always been suspicious of otters.

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  13. Because of their hard knockin' mussel habit? Their effortless felicitation eliciting envy?
    The fact that they can be wet without being too cold?
    Or is it just their beady eyes?

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  14. One of them once stole my trolley in Asda.

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