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