Tag: green

Apples don’t fall near here but far

far from their trunks, all the way out to hide in the world, blindfold yourself no peeking to see who’s kneeling, sitting and kneeling in front of your body, no cleaning of the windows in September it’s inappropriate it occurs that we refuse to offer each other a lift not even parents and offspring have to get by all by themselves on the lawn a failed hotchpotch can be rescued with cinnamon and shortcrust pastry so that no one notices the spoilt bottom there is nothing devious about that camouflage is not the same as cheating and not the same as going to bed hungry out of lack of transfers and secret points behind the knitted cardigan smooth landscapes are hiding orchards and highways it is far

far to the nearest train station and if you are not pleased with the conditions you are welcome to leave us there is no reimbursement  

Look in through the windows look they have ferns  
and a dining table look they forgot their tickets  
on the table petroleum legs crawl up the wall  
vertical and horizontal and waves and flickers  
unseemly

not afraid of the fall that’s waiting no  
fear of sharp little matches  
women perform twice as much housework as men  
the more the woman earns the more hours she spends  
doing housework every single week  
we do not clean our windows any longer  

we have become so light-sensitive lately  
we sleep across the desk with Tupperware under our chin  

and we also agree on hating roadwork