Helsinki

ripe apples hanging heavy on the branch, other fruit lay spoiled on the grass

and it was shoving me onwards

blindly I went

with my head covered

signs lined the road

the look of the letters

like bullet holes in tin

the untended fields are green

bees swarm the fallen fruit

drunk on rot

liquid vines of snakes curve along the hedgerows

this is not the tale I meant to tell

I cannot tell it otherwise

this is how they all begin

with the road and the fields

with rot and green

with drunken honey

(2022)

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