You Buy Me Eggs Nine 72 Poem by Anne Tardos

You buy me eggs and watch me eat them.
Sometimes everything seems like a movie or stage set.
Suppose we really were animals before we became human.

And then there is the appetite, let's not forget.
Now I know what this is—what we are.

When I wrote that, it was a while ago.
Of course I no longer know anything about anything.

Until the next time, when I'll write it down.
Then I'll know what this is, before I forget.