The Ideal Day…

 

smells of orange peels

past their prime

desiccated in sun…

 

cheers cascade down

like waterfalls

and I can’t get enough…

 

I don’t usually pinch myself

but this warrants the pain

born of pleasure…

 

to finally scream goodbye

to the worst side of ourselves

manifest as Agent Orange…

 

Reality TV once featured a peacock

strutting and fanning his wings

to the adoration of less and less…

 

Until crooked politics

and internet circumvent

couldn’t keep him on our screens…

 

they say smell has the strongest memory

and his septic tank of vision

will fade like a sunset bright from pollution…

 

and I will bite into a crisp Gala apple

to cherish the taste

of something sweet…