Kevin Cutrer
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Over Breakfast, Paw Listens to Reason and Replies
Ain’t never known a pleasure ain’t some kind
of guilty, somehow. Sugar in my coffee,
and doctor takes my foot. Well, he can have it.
Diabetes means I’m just too sweet for life.
I tried, tried, tried to quit triglycerides,
but you say no to bacon four o’clock
in the morning, night air still cool all around
your feeble legs, what’s left of you can stand.
Can’t stand that egg white mess comes in a carton.
I’ve got to hear the shell crack, watch egg spill
and whiten where it lands in bubbling butter.
I’ve got to drag my fork across that yolk,
cut that eye for staring, make it bleed
its gold, the only goddamn gold I got.
I know you love your daddy. What could happen?
A stroke? So what. Lord, strike me like a match.
Ain’t nothing dry toast and a glass of juice
will do, but give me days that I don’t want.
Lord, show me hellfire, and I swear I’ll turn
my eggs over it till grease pops in my eyes.
Bio
Kevin Cutrer's work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in a number of publications including Descant, The Cimarron Review, The Dark Horse, and Unsplendid. He is originally from southeast Louisiana.