instant oatmeal falls
free from the torn pouch
to wait for boiling water
where ceramic curves
stuck in thick paste
to fight with the spoon
I want breakfast pie.
I want to live on
caffeine and mascara.
I want to forget the balanced meal
in the bottom of a wine bottle.
or ice cream tub
kettle whistling
breaks my reverie
one shoe sits forgotten
in the living room
my shirt is on inside out and backwards
judging by the reflection
in the microwave door
~
lei fraser 