fiction Flash Fiction Micro Fiction poetry prose writing

Two Eggs

First of all, the eggs in my dream were not in their carton. They stood upright, transfixed inside my fridge, side by side as if a married couple on their porch.

Who knows what they were looking at? Perhaps each other.

Observing them, they struck me as enigmatic, and so of course I thought of that painting American Gothic.


You can probably relate…

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A cartoon by @b_loper, from 2019. #TNYcartoons

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poems poetry writing

chili cheese fries

the french fries were stuck
in a lump of hardened american
that choked the potatoes by the wad

the slender cuts jutted
like push pins from the clot of cheese/meat
as if shoved through a voodoo doll

the tray-shaped carton lay
like a messy casket displaying a corpse
while life at the party raged on