Tipton Poetry Journal his egg. Slathers soft butter on his baguette. Sets his eyes on his newspaper, sans his père’s attentive smirk (hatted Monet’s puff of smoke, notwithstanding). He forks into what’s poached, the yellow glow brightening his blue willow plate. For a precise moment, all the world becomes still. The cat smiles, eyes a-spiral. She fancies hers over-easy.
Originally from Denver, Brian Robert Flynn is currently breathing the fiction and poetry of Washington, DC. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in LETTERS Journal, The Learned Pig, Glasgow Review of Books, Banango Street, and The Moth.