The Ideal Day




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




Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *