Tuesday, December 1, 2009
& what to do with all these found hours
When I sneezed out came all my lost hours. As I went through the years, days, minutes, seconds, breathes, beats, what was missing was you, dear Grapefruit. So I stuffed myself with jerk tofu, kale & wheat gluten, pea pods & maple tree moss. Then you appeared. My gut bulging-- a bite away from bursting.
Someone did you all wrong. You were ripped from the tree, shipped to a store then placed under bright lights until your color paled. Someone bought you & peeled you & sectioned you & put you in a bowl then covered you in sugar.
When I lick your flesh it's hard to decipher whether the salt is from my saliva or your sweat but this sugar is an offense.
I rescued you. I rinsed you fresh then set about to find the fool so as to squirt tart in a knife's eye.
Finished with the temporary blinding I was exhausted & sticky so I collapsed & you collapsed & there with drip of melting icicles we lapsed.