Lunch II

Took out two eggs.
The last two in there.
Cracked one in
and the yolk oozed out
like a wasted soul.
Like the grim reaper.
Like The Sphynx, like
it had been
manufactured
some fifty years earlier
in Cleveland, and plunged
into this body,
which is now soft as
ripened
head cheese.
Pushed it around
with a spatula. Memories
increased in frequency and speed. Pepper
nevermind,
almost ready to
crawl forth with day.