plums
the plums in the ice box
he left for her
were so sweet,
& so cold.
she asked:
don’t you think
it’s so sensuous?
sweet juicy plums,
quenching thirst.
imagine his wife
traipsed into the
kitchen
dressing gown open
yawning
stretching out
her arms
revealing
breasts.
over to the ice box,
she pulls back the door,
smiles & utters
“my man!”
gratefully she plunges
into the flesh,
glacial plum wine
shooting her throat –
& she gobbles it,
devours it, oh yes
imagine it but
if i remember rightly
he ate all the plums
she was probably
saving
for breakfast.
a selfish gesture
if ever there was.
you see my point
darling?
Read A Poem by William Carlos Williams: “This Is Just To Say”