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Who the Devil, A Thanksgiving Poem

Holley Morgan is a graduate student at SNHU and currently works as a college essay tutor.

who-the-devil-a-thanksgiving-poem

Who the Devil

Eggshells are no fun,
not walking around them,
wondering if you’ve
unknowingly
broken one;
especially not peeling them.

You bark
angrily that you’ll
stick to
baking.

It’s what you’re good at.

But no one answers.

You cry
and give it another
try; the deviled
eggs turn out this time.

You go back a few pages,
but can’t find it,
that good mood
before
you felt the

inadequacy

that brought
you to this
point of no return.

It’s not as though
you can communicate it.

It sounds mad
bonkers
barking
silly
stupid…

“I’m down because
I messed up the deviled eggs,
or at least,
I messed up boiling the eggs
before deviling them,
whatever deviling means.”

Who the devil
decided to
call them deviled
eggs?

Baking is messy,
but it’s easy.

Hell, it’s all a mess
when you don’t know
what you’re doing.

Afterthoughts

This was a freewrite that turned into something I liked. I liked the idea of eggshells as the central theme, and it's fitting given the holiday today. I love poetry in that it can be whatever the reader wants it to be. In my own take, the narrator seems to have walked on all kinds of eggshells - and after enough of that in life, one tends to have those eggshells within. You never quite know what might trigger one to break, and sometimes the things that seem small that upset us are tied to the big things. But often when we feel strong emotion about something, that is a hint that we aren't seeing it clearly. Our feelings aren't always the truth.

Happy Thanksgiving, and may your dishes turn out exactly as you want them to!

© 2020 Heidi Hendricks

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