a short, bad poem

by jhon baker

a short, bad poem

 

I look back through my notebook

and find no poetry.

apples, pears

peaches, penumbras, oranges

mangoes

pomegranates

fruits of the grove stand at

the local grocer.

 

I find bananas in several local cafes.

 

in dream I am at this

fruit supermarket;

counting the aisles and cashiers,

wearing pajamas

and blue memory foam slippers.

unselfconscious of naked shoppers

who fail to wear fig leaves

hiding their shame

 

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