of nothing in particular

kaleidoscope

the headache has faded away with the medication

kept in the cabinet in the kitchen, next to the alcohol

and above the broken microwave that never shuts off

i wait for the faucet to warm up so i can rinse my apple

though i know the wax holds enough bugs already

i cannot get the sticker off and i realize i am bruising the skin

and then, in the midst of mild frustration, i understand

just how silly life is.

the stubbornness of menial tasks i continue to fight with,

the sharp pains in my temples and stiff muscles,

the papers i've been procrastinating for the past three days,

hilarious, really. 

once the sticker comes off i let out a breif guffaw 

placing it on the cutting board as though to further the punchline

i slice half the apple before a piece slips from my hands

again, i laugh, picking it up off the floor and rinsing again

how silly is that, i think to myself, my body protesting

as i rise and continue to butcher the fruit on the counter

how much sillier still if i were to slice my finger?

because what is the difference, really? 

between the fruit of the earth that eats one another

from miles away we both look the same

and from even further i bet we would act the same, too

how silly to think it's really that serious

that i should struggle with fruit of the tree

that should one day eat me, and laugh

why not laugh together? 

in the moments that we can share

blood for blood and breath for breath

we live, we die, and we laugh and laugh and laugh