Some Scallions in a Plastic Cup
I have to sketch these scallions on this windowsill
before a stormwind comes & scatters them on the landing,
blows their plastic cradle down the stairwell,
& spills their scallion-scented water which will pool,
shrink, & evaporate without witness. I have to sketch
the faces of the middleweights slowly disappearing
from the cup’s cheap print & the Independence
Day of their Vegas fight before they wear away to white.… Read the rest