Poem:
by Marrco Maredo
Legendary Street Food #3
We and our quail eggs
in the bus terminal
with our salt.
“Have you even seen a Quail?”
or how does it sound
clawing at its birds nest
And smooth heads beneath it.
I used to think quails invented the alphabet
Because neither of us have seen Quails,
the letter “Q” does not appear in our dialect.
The boiled quail egg is small,
soft as talk,
spotted brown,
unwrapped,
and wonder where the Quail
obtains such precious objects.
