Eggs of Brexit, by Kushal Poddar

The hard side of this, and the one soft,
remains hoodwinked in the shell
as the things boil. 

“How will you prefer your eggs?”
I remember Gulliver
once stranded in an island
with a run of hard border,
say, “What if I am too full of eggs?” 

“The choice,” regrets the cook in portent voice,
“Doc, is limited.”
One may enter in the eatery
but leaving without a reverie of will disregarded
seems an antithesis.


Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals, Understanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)

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