By | 2 February 2001

I’m about to
bite into a slice
when you’re there

with juice dribbling
down your chin
and picking pips

out with your fingers
while I just eat and spit
and we grin all wet

but there is no we
‘cos you and me don’t
live in the same breath

so I’m reading the
Penguin Book of Death ‘cos
all of you and a lot

of me got shot away
and I forgot that
I’ve planted some pips

so I go and look
and see green ears
breaking the surface

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