Spiced Ego Soup

By Keiraj M. Gillis [Winner: 1st Place]

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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.