Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue One

Tom Carson

Breakfast plate portraits

Tomato eyes, scrambled egg hair
A smile made out of mushrooms
This was my beautiful mother once
Until the knife and fork destroyed her

I'll never forget her potato waffle jacket
Or that scarf made out of bacon
Even that baked bean jumper looked cool
Until her tomato ketchup wounds ruined it

Sometimes she would wave her sausage arms
To the songs being played on the radio
And her brown sauce mascara would run
As we laughed helplessly at my silly jokes

But now she's just brown bread
Cremated, burnt to a cinder
Come on father, you must cook better than this
So that she can be alive again