Friday, November 23, 2007

I Have Something Important to Say

There was a line of ants marching through the kitchen,
toward my last peach. I thought about snatching it up
and calling the exterminator,
but I couldn’t.

The drier buzzed during my afternoon nap.
Who set the alarm anyway?
Maybe it was the hot pink sweater
that left a neon calling card in the lint basket.

The photos in my album are starting
to fade—the edges separating
image from paper.
They are the only copies.

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