Whole Wheat

We break bread together,
not the soft stuff either,
the whole grain,
not the barely held together,
yeast noticeable to the tongue,
the firm-wrist-ripping type
measured in torques,
risen without ruse,
no oat to lighten,
no lie of rye to darken
like a fallen comment,
a cynicism, a schoolyard wink
that makes one untrustworthy,
but toasted, trusted,
lying underneath a butter tab
like a lover beneath a warm sheet.


About the Poet:
Jeff Burt lives in California with his wife amid the redwood and two-lane roads wide enough for one car. He has work in The Nervous Breakdown, Amarillo Bay, Atticus Review, and forthcoming in Per Contra. He was the featured summer issue poet of Clerestory, won the 2011 SuRaa short fiction award, and been nominated for a Best of the Net Award.


Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.


Photo by Ash.