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another vagrant pineapple
sits on the retro coffee table
you gave it to me
as a birthday gift
but I can't tell him that
some bits of information
have to be edited out
what we think we know
melts like all that is solid
I'm onto the third wine
buried under Home and Away
his outbursts evaporate
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your one from the Sunshine Coast
that plastic Big Pineapple
it sat on your wooden bar
adjacent to the beer bottle collection
we all wanted it when you died
was it seventies nostalgia
or a piece of you
the green leaves faded
to an off-white lime
and the brittle yellow shell
bruised with minor dints
from being thrown across the living room
that was all we talked about
when you died
that bloody pineapple
oh god that moved me
ReplyDeleteaaaww - thanks Sarah :)
Deletegreat poem
ReplyDeletelove the rough end of that!
ReplyDeleteThanks James - that goes with the pineapple territory, doesn't it?
Delete