fruit logic



holdin’ my cards as
plastic melts
& the last day of air conditioning
gurgles like an 8-month-old
in the high chair
with
smashed stringed carrots
in
mouth ..

the paper comes out of
the machine like a new movie
in a war
evolving over the printed word ..

No matter how much
you move forward,
you always go back ..

Newton had it right in more
ways
than one
when
that fruit
smacked
his old, wet
ground ..