By a stark REM stream, the chef awakens anxiety-
Ridden: memory imagined psyche scenarios.

Groggy, he wanders to the kitchen and opens both
Doors, the bottom after the top--the refrigerator
Below the freezer--an ounce of beef after a loaf of
Raisin bread is removed from the box.

The beef is slivered, slid off a cutting board into heated
Safflower oil, melted butter bubbles, strewn sea salt;
A flame-tempered skillet conducts the meat frizzle.

An espresso brew gurgles harmoniously.

During the sizzle, a slice from the frigid loaf is toasted
Chewy-crisp and slathered with neufchatel; sugar-free
Syrup smothers the beef slid from the frypan, soaks
Through the charred open-face sandwich, commingles
With the greasy sop.

A subconscious change in the breakfast procedure--
Knife and fork, where's the spoon?

The chef places a morsel in his mouth, chomps, sips
Coffee, repeats; however, he was not meticulous.

Absorbed he tried to figure out why the muesli was skipped:
Distracted by the dream or unacknowledged stress; "Cut
The carbs or cut the crap," wondered the chef.

He twistied the bag of raisin bread, returned the loaf to
The idle cold, hoping to extend freshness.