White or brown?
If my white skin picks white eggs,
surely I’m suffering
an historical flare-up
to America’s racial flavor.
Between caged and free-
range brown, I grab
the $5.99 free-range.
I’m looking to eat
eggs born from unshackled mothers.
Out of Duboce Triangle’s Safeway,
I trot across Market, skip down Dolores.
All the while, I clutch my egg choice
like twelve brown babies.
Yet as I leap over Muni tracks,
a M train nearly squishes me
and my babies. I escape
with all twelve yolks
still encased
within their proud brown shells.
At home, I open the egg
carton’s confinement
to crack three into a black skillet
and gobble up my babies
I once protected as a parent
now scrambled in a free-range
rapture hot on a plate.
Nestled in yellow,
a small brown shell
gapes at my breakfast eyes.