a poem I wrote in 1987, Hard Boiled egg

here is a poem I wrote in 1987

Hard Boiled Egg

This food in my palm is oblong.
It feels like porcelain flannel sheets.
When my fingers are joined, it sits secure
with its small end up.

I crack the sheets and unfold.
A mosaic pattern peals around uncovering more white.
It feels like my eyeball

I break it in half
exposing a yellow ball covered by green-blue film--

Feeling like old tofu--
Crumbling like feta cheese--
Tasting dry--

It gives me the hiccups.