I heard the butter scrape across sandpaper
permanently molesting my eardrums.
I listened as the cheese grater sliced each
slender piece of mozzarella
stripping the life away from its aged rind.
I screamed when you tortured its fragile skin
in that mechanical inferno.
I left when you burnt the toast.
it was just a shredded piece of wheat
bound up with water and grain.
the sparse crumbs tumbled down from your abandoned plate;
then the saucer crashed to my carpet and,
-it never made a sound.
Author notes
Prompt: about toast; what it represents
A contest entry
- prewrites by aeolia.
400 points, ended October 26, 2008, 130 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Toast by Krick.
300 points, ended July 31, 2008, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Best Prewrites From July 2008 by amaranthine lover.
2800 points, ended November 18, 2008, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Awesome piece! Love everything about it here!
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!!!!!love it!! very creative..i'll never look at toast the same way again..lol...u have to appreciate silence huh?..reminds of a german proverb...speech is human..silence is divine..
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