here is the turn. one line follows the other. one line and then another. you. call it a prose poem, you.
this is not a prose poem, you. it.

looks about you. look about you. this. is no story. there is no story.

there is only. this. it. stands before a mirror. blood floods out the nose. this is not a. i am the mirror, i
am the mirror, i am am am.

there is a story. old man of the river. they are dying. in a hut, in a marketstall, a supermarket.
apples underneath the apple tree. beautiful apples. sparkling and preserved. ruby
apples. i. this is not a. the man sells ruby apples, call him plain-clothes bobby.
not all cops. not all bad apples. not all. he
sells apples underneath the apple tree.
the tree is rooted in
blood. not all trees
are rooted in
blood.

from whence we are born/e.

the man sells apples from the apple tree. the tree is empire. i am
am am. i am

sympathetically stimulated. dilated. strung-out. each day bleeds into the next. one line follows. it
stands before a mirror. i am not a. i am not a.

it reads fairy tales. tall reeds dance o’er the riverbed. fairytales / lies. fairytales lie scattered all across the
bathroom tile. once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a hut down by the riverbed.
he was a very old man, and he had lived in the hut for a very very long time.

story skeleton:

• one day the old man hears
• the apple tree weeping
• sobbing
• the tree begins to
• bloom
• white blossoms
• ruby apples
• the man does not eat the apples, but
• the people eat the apples, the people are happy people
• the people are very hungry people, we are the last men
• the tree cracks
• deny. defend. depose.

i/she has eaten the apple, now
here is the turn.