My Dad loved to cook
Hard Boiled Eggs
He liked to teach me how to cook
Hard Boiled Eggs.
You see the trick to cooking
Hard Boiled Eggs
Is to know when they get to be
Hard Boiled Eggs
To establish the hardness of
Hard Boiled Eggs
Spin it like a top on a white porcelain plate.
A fast spinning egg is a
Hard Boiled Egg
A slow spinning egg
Is not.
My father loved making those
Hard Boiled Eggs.
Killing three birds with one stone seems like a perfectly good idea to me, and to my Dad.
The question is, "Where are these three birds?"
Are they in Toronto?
Are they in L.A?
Are they sitting in a classroom in Atlanta?
Is it best to find them together, throw a stone and bash them all in the head at once?
Those three birds, those three sinners and one stone.
My father did not learn to swim
but
he took Me to swim , at our cottage in Camp Polermo,
most every weekend in the summer,
after horseback riding.
Its no coincidence my mother was swimming the night he died.
Its no coincidence that his son helped him to the bathroom on that fatal nite.
That's where my father fell and hit his head on the watery marble floor,
as his son the lifeguard stood by.
Its no coincidence.
