Sunday, April 19, 2009


i thought it said "secret orange" but it was damaged
not like fruit at all--its taste chalky and worded.

the whip for hearing, the sound of sweat in a palm
tree, a drip-drop-drip. a cast for the hearing, a heart

that gets wrapped in cloth and small scraps of paper.
the men and their nerves--a setting of tables

the silverwear angled away. no school for manners
here--look at the shoulder hunch, the graceless

finger-padding. all elbows and no sweetness.
a seed for the fruit is its key and tuning, a number

let go for the lotto.

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