Hour 8 (2022)

I bought oranges for the end of the world
$5.99 a bag, what a steal!

Even the threat of death and nothingness
won’t wipe the thrift from my bones.
Capitalism tastes like

a citrus apocalypse on the tongue.
Burning in dollar bill paper cuts.

We thirst for what little brightness
is hiding on the horizon

and clawing at the peel to find it.
I bought oranges for the end of the world

A citrus apocalypse on the tongue
The explosion hits like a bomb,
vapors sting my welling eyes.

Turns out my bag of oranges
were onions this whole time.

One thought on “Hour 8 (2022)

  1. Beautiful! I love how you wove the oranges in enough time to keep it present. Plus the poem touches the senses, which makes it more powerful. The only line that bothers me is the next to last. I think there is a stronger way to state that line. It feels a little weak against the rest of the poem. Maybe something like “My eyes were deceived, my oranges”. I’m sure you can do better than that! 🙂

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