Poached Cockroaches, Baked Brain /
For Only a Second
By Duane Anderson
• • •
Poached Cockroaches, Baked Brain
Cockroaches fall from my mouth.
I have them for breakfast,
and every once in awhile,
they make a mad scramble
to get out.
I have them for breakfast,
and every once in awhile,
they make a mad scramble
to get out.
Life in any form
wants to live,
except man.
Man is having himself for dinner
tonight.
For Only a Second
Out of the window
I saw my face
look at me.
It stared and looked puzzled
through the reflection.
I saw the sun shine down
trying to melt the snow away
without success.
The snow was a mirror
bouncing sun beams through
the glass
into my eyes.
I looked,
but the light was too bright.
I saw my face
look at me.
It stared and looked puzzled
through the reflection.
I saw the sun shine down
trying to melt the snow away
without success.
The snow was a mirror
bouncing sun beams through
the glass
into my eyes.
I looked,
but the light was too bright.
• • •
Duane Anderson currently lives in La Vista, NE. He has had poems published in Fine Lines, Cholla Needles, Tipton Poetry Journal, and several other publications. He is the author of ‘On the Corner of Walk and Don’t Walk,’ ‘The Blood Drives: One Pint Down,’ and ‘Conquer the Mountains.' Find him on Facebook at facebook.com/duane.anderson.710667
