The Ideal Day…

 

I smell orange peels

past their prime

desiccated in sun…

 

cheers cascade down

on me like waterfalls

from everywhere…

 

I can’t get enough.

 

I’m not prone to pinch myself

but this warrants a pain

born of pleasure…

 

I finally get to scream goodbye

to the worst side of myself

manifest as President Agent Orange…

 

Reality TV had featured a peacock

strutting and fanning his wings

to the adoration of less and less…

 

until crooked politics

and internet circumvent

weren’t enough to keep him on our screens…

 

smell has a strong memory

but his septic tank of vision

fades like a sunset bright from pollution…

 

and I bite into a crisp Gala apple

to relish the taste

of something sweet

and finally… a twang of hope