STEAMING PILE OF BIRDSONG

gleaming plate of eggs
mocks my status
cracked peppered
ligaments

never mind all that yolk

was just the liminal
broth of an emergence

my chef'ining sharpens
against the horns
of my cape-less
shoulder

quivering pile
of puny would-
be baby
quickens
my appetite

piercing tongues
with their pointillist
opus