Tuesday, September 13, 2011

lemon law


i have dreams of limbless best friends
of lucky men who taste like lemons but not lemons
well, maybe lemons. but only the ones on Coronas
if lemons are all the Lima people have left
and only lemons if I haven't tasted them yet.

!!!

The WEEK before I have my first LEMON!
L-E-M-O-N! a citron. A fantasy of citrus, I could only
hope it is as good as the sticky pop the bank teller
handed out. I can only HOPE this lemon, this lemon
this lemon is the favorite. Strawberries, buh bye. Fuck
them. I am about to have a lemon. MY lemon.

I have never had one. I assume they must taste free.
Not acidic. I am not saying this lucky man is acidic.
What I am saying, I think, is I keep having dreams of things
that speak loudly--louder than I have ever spoken,
even over the chickadees and screamcore ten years ago--
about the people in my life and how when I am awake
all I seem to do is bounce from toothache to

licking tomato paste from the can, hoping & counting the
odd of cutting my tongue

but, really, what is all this about palominos, backless chef outfits,
and hands scaling up my spine? And the L-E-
M-O-N-S?! These goddam lemons I have never once tasted.
Lemon, lemon. Something about 60 minutes and the 1970's Pinto
and lemons and maybe my Parents shoulda traded theirs in. And spritz it
on apples in a school room corner aquarium full of dixie-cupped tomato plants.

He probably doesn't taste anything close to a lemon.

-Suzanne Jones, Ides of September Challenge

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