The Eggs of March (original) (raw)
You know what they say � beware the Eggs of March. Or something like that. Who says poetry can�t be fun? Long live the revolution (or whatever this is).
The Eggs of March
After potting and panning,
the evil chefs finally agreed:
It�s simple enough,
We�ll let the pastry starve.
All in flavor, say pie.
Opposed, mayonnaise.
And so we were flamb�d
On the Eggs of March,
Censured as ragamuffins,
Mere cups of unsifted flour.
Alas, the poor waffles,
They were the first to go.
Sadly unsyrup themselves,
They buttered under their breath,
Grew stiff and grew cold.
But the coffee was hot.
Clearly, there were grounds
For revolt. It fit the case
To a tea.
The jam, too,
Knew juice what to do.
Oh, yes, it was bready
From toast to toast.
Pancakes, they cried,
Stick to your plates!
Remember the words of Omelet:
To brie or not to brie �
That is the confection.
The pancakes flipped at the flap.
Led by Jack, they sang Marmalade.
This got a rise from the flour.
Suddenly, meringue shots were fried.
Everyone knew they came from the yeast.
The chefs fell with glazed expressions.
Bun by bun, we battered them all.
Filling with pride, we climbed the �clairs
And strudeled through the door. Hurrah!
No more would they be pudding us down!
Note: Poems, Slightly Used, a growing collection of work first published in my blog, Recently Banned Literature, can be found here.
POETRY COLLECTIONS IN PRINT
Available from Cosmopsis Books of San Francisco Winter Poems
by William Michaelian
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
US 11.95;∗∗11.95; 11.95;∗∗8.95 at Cosmopsis Books
52 pages. 6x9. Paper.
Includes one drawing.
San Francisco, June 2007
Signed, numbered & illustrated copies Winter Poems displays the skills and abilities of Mr. Michaelian at their most elemental level, at the bone. Wandering amidst a barren world, a world scraped bare, he plucks the full moon like fruit from the winter sky, goes mad and befriends a pack of hungry wolves, burns his poems to keep warm. He is a flake of snow, a frozen old man, a spider spinning winter webs. Spring is only a vague notion of a waiting vineyard, crocuses, and ten-thousand babies. The author is alone, musing, reflecting, at times participating. But not quite alone, for he brings the lucky reader along. I�ve been there, to this winter world, and I plan to go back.
� John Berbrich, Barbaric Yawp
Another Song I Know � Short Poems
by William Michaelian
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
US 13.95;∗∗13.95; 13.95;∗∗10.95 at Cosmopsis Books
80 pages. 6x9. Paper.
Includes Author�s Note.
San Francisco, June 2007
Signed, numbered & illustrated copies Another Song I Know is a delightful collection of brief, resilient poems. Reading them, one by one by one, is like taking a walk through our common everyday world and suddenly hearing what the poet hears: the leaves, a coffee cup, chairs � and yes, even people, singing their songs of wisdom, sweetness, and light.
� Tom Koontz, Barnwood poetry magazine
Also by William Michaelian POETRY
Winter Poems
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
52 pages. Paper.
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Another Song I Know
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
80 pages. Paper.
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