It is concluded by an apple core
Left in that place ‘on the side’
Defining the structures of life
By their immediacy.
I have tried
That indulgence of ‘privacy’
Yet it is greeted with stares
The function of doors in this space
Is no more
-
People look down.
They see my face
The slowly seeping
Eyes, two nostrils
-
Still an audience when I am sleeping
Why
Do they prefer this act
The human footage of my mouth?
And then on the side, the apple
Crumbling
Embodying a verb it could not before
My breathing
Like the slow reduction
Of something natural
Into talk.
I have waited
In this room for days
Walked, yet it is only distraction
Hoping the apple core will rot
And in eating
Something then, will happen.
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