Someone hides behind the egg 

Reading a story, writing
A soft insistence
Water poured

Over easy, no potatoes

Heads turned when she was young
The hard part, boiled too long
Learning to be invisible

Rye toast, no butter

Invisible, pretend when they were kids
Makes sense now
Invisible, miserable

A small orange juice, no pulp

Reading the cheap magazines
No need to think, still waters
No soap, no dice

Decaf, black, no sugar

Spoon slides away
The table’s tilted or is it turned
Scales tipped, and the waitress

The coffee’s cold

Closing time, or have the clocks gone mad
The world’s gone mad
All the hiding places, humpty dumpty.

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