Egg
By Aleš Šteger
When you kill it at the edge of the pan, you don’t notice
That the egg grows an eye in death.
It is so small, it doesn’t satisfy
Even the most modest morning appetite.
But it already watches, already stares at your world.
What are its horizons, whose glassy-eyed perspectives?
Does it see time, which moves carelessly through space?
Eyeballs, eyeballs, cracked shells, chaos or order?
Big questions for such a little eye at such an early hour.
And you – do you really want an answer?
When you sit down, eye to eye, behind a table,
You blind it soon enough with a crust of bread.
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I was up too late because of the Oscars last night and had a busy day today so I will keep this short. For breakfast, I met the mom of one of Adam's friends, with whom I've been talking about getting together for ages -- we finally picked a day! We were going to have coffee but we ended up going to the Brooklyn Deli for egg sandwiches since we were hungry. Then I had to go to the post office and various chores out and about. I even snuck in a Pokemon raid at a local church, though Latias ran away.
Angela, Carrie and I had dinner plans at Lebanese Taverna, but they're moving a few doors down into a bigger space and were closed, so instead we went to the Silver Diner, which ended up being lovely because we were in a booth and talked for a long time. Then I came home for I Am the Night (still creepy and very well done) and the premiere of The Enemy Within (some questionable logic but interesting enough that I'll watch next week). Speaking of Pokemon, I was playing with the new AR camera:
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