No tangerines were harmed in the construction of this poem.

Hunters
Green monsoons
Wait for the click to let go

Molecules
projected on the ceiling
a carbonate haze

I think I missed the chorus
the melody is abstract
impossible to sing along with

Arranging sounds is possible
but mostly
you have to let them happen

Timing
Unlit buttons
Wait for the cue to punch in

Afternoon
Prone to fidgeting
I place the object in my other hand

Prone to fidgeting
I fidget

Water beads on the windows
It’s been raining forever, it seems

Grey skies
Tangerines
Let go when you hear the click

(16 November 2019)

 

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