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The Egg

My three minute egg in boiling water, Seventeen for hard-boiled, according to Julia, Or fried in bacon grease for the trip to eternity Two jaundiced eyes on my father's chipped plate, Or butter for scrambled then cover 'em with catsup; No resemblance here to the Faberge eggs Covered with diamonds, rubies and pearls For the pleasure of the Russian royal family.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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Book: Shattered Sighs