the wandering fox
spotted the grapes
hanging above its reach
This will quench my thirst,
it told itself
and tried various stratagems
to reach the distant fruit


the fox jumped up;
the fox rolled rocks to below the grapes
and stood on them
and jumped again;
the fox sang songs to the grapes;
the fox threatened the grapes
and even tried positive thinking
and with eyes closed
a good measure of visualization
in which the grapes fell into its open mouth…

But all to no avail…

And at last
the wise fox said:
Ah, who needs these grapes?
They must be sour and turning bad anyway…

And off the fox trotted away

grapes
in the ear
taste like grapes
sound like grapes
feel like grapes
for an image i bend
you see twisted lump
of motion
flying
for no reason
feet empty
empty mouth
this empty mouth
tastes like grapes
you will never know
your full fine feet
walk a walk
i admire
in spastic dreams
awake
i prefer
the taste of grapes
empty feet and mouth
grapes

I was in a museum, when I came across a picture of grapes.
I’d already seen thousands of other pictures but when I looked at this particular painting, I began to cry.
My heart couldn’t handle it, and no one else understood.
Why grapes? What was so **** particular about these grapes that made me cry?
Then it hit me. It all poured out of me like my eyes turned on a faucet.
******* grapes. I don’t even like grapes.
So why was I crying? I hated grapes.

*but you loved them