By Keiraj M. Gillis [Winner: 1st Place]
--
I popped the cork on my ego
and splashed it into a tomato-thyme
bouillon to accompany some lamb
flanks and rye. Wholly unappetizing—
so I was later told—and irredeemable
even with the come hither, come hither
of near-top-shelf Chardonnay.
Never knew my ego was nestled
up against the qualifying benchmark
for inedible waste. And magnified
therein is the curse of pride—that sin—
whose value escapes appraisal for
as long as it remains veiled. But, when
laid out for consumption on antique,
Taiwanese, blue-lipped china, it stains.
In all of the colors of epiphany, it stains.