The morning
light finely
dresses
the fruit
on my table
but the fruit
is immature.
too early my
grandmother
would say
if she
were here.
Longing is
hard to
the touch,
a pit in
the heart.
I steal away
with fruit
anyway,
mouth
longing
for the
sweet wet
flesh. I bite
into a
"Peach"
-- A mealy,
tasteless
noun.
Desire
difficult
to
extinguish.
I follow
the brush
strokes of
the still
life painted
-- Nothing
else to do.
I wait
around
all day
-- long-
ing.
c.a. leibow has been published in numerous journals such as Barrow Street, Interim, Juked, Poetry Motel, and Stray Dog Review. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Award and a Utah Book Award. He is a graduate of Antioch University with a Masters Degree in Poetry. Being a poet, he has needed to find ways to make a living. He has worked as a dishwasher, a shoes salesman, a driver, a security guard, a bouncer, an escort driver, a mental institution orderly, a file clerk, a shipping clerk, and corporate trainer. He lives in Salt Lake City with his cat Mr. Futzwhittle.
Archived at http://girlswithinsurance.com/index.php/poetry/poetry/117-cl-0110-life and shortlinked at http://frsh.in/3q
