portion of the artwork for Jayne Pupek's poems

Breakfast
Jayne Pupek

Eggs in a bowl. Broken yolks salted.
Black beans ground, scooped into
cone filter. Left to brew.

A man at the kitchen table.
Newspaper opened to page three.
He mouths the story, how a gunman
robbed a pizza delivery boy
while wearing a gorilla mask
and oversized tennis shoes.

The man’s wife hands him a banana.
She watches him peel it,
not with two fingers,
which is customary,
but with his whole hand
the way an ape might do.



FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 27 | Law & Order Issue | Winter 2010