the orange on the wall i have forgotten
Writing a letter and the sun and penicillin on the table in the kitchen an evening after. Eyeballs from the evening before: purple tacky rings, the vinyl table cloth i recall our conversation. Laughing more.
u saw a brown bottle drunk, green bottle drunk, clear bottle, bottle drunk..
. inside a_a
genius i am. u havent yet seen me write like this or this, these bottles
now good for change, nor read this poem, SILENCE, telephones understand.
people came to talk to me with their grief collected.
my apartment clean enough for you_im surprised you found your way, you
havent visited me in years_am i not clean and shaven, gainfully employed
again_no_to begin again_ive been writing_the same of
you all recognize me
the truth be told
the orange forgotten. Yes I am surprised. u arent here with the usual
others. i am writing now. No. writing, to begin again. u will remember as
did the many because it has happened before and when u knew me and my colours
and bottles and sometimes
u remember_last time it was an apple the time before a fresh loaf, thatdidnthurt. So hated laughter.
apple the freshbread the orange ihaveforgotten
a fresh loaf of bread.
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