Friday, October 2, 2015

Bitter Fruit

Bitter Fruit

Written four and a half years ago:

Bitter Fruit

The beauty of the game
is when you can't tell me off
without making him
nervous alongside
and she pipes up, is it me?
and all the rest nod
in time, in tune, nod
and open up rich red wounds
no longer hidden.

I didn't mean to.
I'm an innocent fellow,
so sorry, so sad.

‎February ‎27, ‎2011 6:10 AM

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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