A Cheese Omelet at Midnight

cracking eggs

A Cheese Omelet at Midnight

You can’t ever leave without saying something,
no matter how insipid. That sweater looks good
on you. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. I’m sorry
I burned the omelet. Nasdaq has plunged 3% 

since last week. And I, in return, can’t let you go without
replying in equal measure. It matches your eyes. I love
to smell rain in August. That cheddar was delicious.
Maybe I’ll start a savings account. Next month.

So I wash dishes when you’re gone, wipe down the
counters, pour salt into the shaker, grab a book, join my
cat in bed. This tune’s been overplayed, the grooves’re
worn down. Maybe next time I’ll say what I mean,

tell you what I want: It would look better in a heap
on the floor. How about a shower here, tonight? Kiss
me and I’ll never think of it again. I don’t give a rat’s
ass about the stock exchange. Step away from that door!

I’ll make your lunch, butter your 7-grain toast, assemble
your IKEA furniture, balance your books, even dye
my hair pink, tattoo a pig on my thigh and drink light beer
in your honor, if you would agree to say what’s on your

mind. On second thought, don’t. Tell me, instead,
what I want to hear, but make it heart-felt. Truthful
and direct. Poached but earnest. Hard-boiled but tender.
I’ll cook your eggs. Invest in me. You’ll earn interest.

This originally appeared in August, as the 25th offering in the Tupelo Press 30-30 fund raiser. Sponsored by Pleasant Street, a recording may be found at her blog, In My Parlour.

Asparagus omelet MGD©

 

 

87 thoughts on “A Cheese Omelet at Midnight

  1. Down-to-earth and real — the poetry of the everyday, a scrap of existence in our times. I like the way you juxtapose the speaker’s and his mate’s phrases. Intimations of communication breakdown. “Invest in me. You’ll earn interest.” This the nitty-gritty, this the sad fact of familiarity over a long period of time. Very well-written.

    JIm Valero

    Liked by 8 people

  2. Ah, this one goes straight to my heart. I could go on about the perfect egg analogies but really it’s the feeling in it that gets to me…..

    especially drinking light beer. I am not so sure that is a fair sacrifice for anyone.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I loved this poem the first time, and now I want to marry it, or at least have a long affair. “Kiss me and I’ll never think of it again….Tell me, instead,what I want to hear, but make it heart-felt.”

    What a delight, Bob!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Love the photo and the sentiments. I made a breakfast omelette with spinach and red chillies this morning, then I wrote a blog about love, and then I read yours, and thought how much more subtle yours was. Thanks for the inspiration!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Yes, Sir Robert! “Poached but earnest” is just the way I like my poetry (my eggs, my love), too!
    What I really want is someone to cook for me.
    Maybe I just said the same thing twice…
    Over easy.🍳
    I saw that you liked my poem, “Painted Chickens.” Thanks! Isn’t there just something so fecund about eggs? Well, I guess, I mean…duh!
    Eggs come up a lot in my work, too. Maybe we’re birds of a feather…? 🐔

    Liked by 1 person

  6. ha…the bargains we think we want to make…tell me what you think – no, don’t…stay here with me – but then I couldn’t lie here dreaming of you… life is good with omelettes cooked in salted butter…

    Liked by 1 person

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