Some thoughts that Lingered

The hot chocolate’s cemented to my tin cup.

A ring, like those in the Grand Canyon, yet insignificant

And then nothing, but silver steel

It plummets down into flies.

The disease lingers there, invisible.

I wonder if even I clean it would the flies stay away?

Where is my fly swatter now?

Retired, sitting in a cabinet where it can’t be of use to anybody

It isn’t needed over there in MN

A thousand slices of tomatoes

Lie curled up: twisted, crumbling

Tied in an abandoned rice sac

With 50 stars and 13 stripes

These tomatoes lie upon a U.S. Paten

Yet, they’ll never breach its boarder.

Their hidden destiny: A Mauritanian’s digestive track

The camel stretches its legs

Dipping one hoof into what use to be a puddle of grit

A mirror of the thawing and melting tug of war

Yet, here, in Mauritania, there is no thawing

Instead, the puddle cracks

Deep incisions that would scare the shit out of an ant

The camel moves, dissatisfied.

Yet, it turns out, there wasn’t ever a puddle

It was just its shadow.

~ by avalambrecht on April 24, 2009.

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