Common House Magazine

As far as revelations go, admitting

that I eat the peel of a kiwi – fruit fuzz

and tree bark ends – is not worth immortality

on an Old Testament tablet. But for you–

with butterknife and a little white porcelain

plate we will eat how others do, which is

with a spoon to scoop its evergreen

guts out to feed us, the best

kind of breakfast, arising

next to you to slide light into

the room from the shuddering

curtains. This morning held

the future in our hands. You were

off from my place to the polls

to bring us forward the best

way you can and I thought

because we are good our world

would be, too. How sweet,

how fresh our fruit. As far

as revelations go, the world

could end and still it would

be more Dane Cook than Biblical.

People no longer hide the horrors

they harbour. I woke up with you

and a plate of good fruit

while the rest of the world

had something fresh

in front of them, something

like hope, and they just

threw away what could

help us survive.