Barnes Summer

If I see an apple on the street now

I’ll pick it up and drink its juices

I’ll be allowed to

It would be appropriate

There is nothing you can do

But Pray, I don’t punch you in the face

And remember those nights

When I called down the hallway

While you were paid

And now you are left in my memory bank

And there is nothing I can do

But hope and expand

But I warn you now

As I do every year

Pray I only punch you

Punch you back

And don’t kill you

© 2000 David Greg Harth

00.08.25.01:15:29@296NYC