escribblings

My head is an egg - full of marbles and clay,
my head is the start of a day.
I crack in the morning, the sun leaks out quick,
the pages are creamy and slick.

Oh, how about it?
Why not go ahead?
Why not re-read what we’ve not read?

My head is an egg - full of sprockets and wires,
my hat is a halo of fire.
I rise to the sunshine, the glow overhead
burns to figure out life before bed

Oh, how about it?
Why not go ahead?
Why not live with a wink ’til we’re dead?

My head is an egg - full of bubbles and fuzz,
my jaw the conductor of buzz.
I plunge in the evening, the wind whipping past
like the whirr of a line when it’s cast.