dying eggs

chemical dyes stain my fingertips
with the recklessness of mad scientists
at frenzied work deep in a laboratory, and
I breath deep the smell of bitter vinegar as
the orbs are dipped quietly into vats of colors
that barely change the original white,
a pointless task that we take with a
grain of salt in our labors, our heads slipping as
we realize how little we care,
our feet rumbling restlessly under
Formica tables, our fingers stained deep
with carelessness.

~ by scriken on May 1, 2009.