S'gonna be Easter

Ain’t here yet, but

S’gonna be Easter,

That season of vinegar,

Of Paas egg kits

Now full of things like

Glitter glue and beads and

Twirly tops, whatever they are and

Foil things and

Punchout things

But when Ah was liddle it was jest aiggs

Jes’ hardboiled aigs on the kitchen tay-ble

With my brother in his worst shirt

And me in one of his worst shirts

Because I always dressed like him anyway

My mother wouldn’t spend the money

And didn’t notice

Ya dip the aig in, see, like

This sort of, and it comes out

All bright and sparkly and

Half this color and half that color and

Vinegar water with color in goes all over the table.

The thing with the most dyee of all is

Your fingertips, which are kinda like rainbows

Some so dy-eed they’re black.

No one wants to eat these aiggs, so fiddled and dipped and dried

Except Grandpa, who has one for breakfast

But everyone cried because he had to break the shell

And the smell of sulphur was really something awful.

Aigs, aigs, these are Easter egges,

Representing the tomb of Christ, the stone rolled away

The Resurrection of hatching

A chicken into a chick

And dipped fingers

And childhood returned, and returned, and returned

Once again.