Orpheus in electric chair
press GREEN to hide screen,
press GREEN or (zer)0 to return,
(had to check, forgotten already).
Then you was out trying to be
small on the front lawn,
mulling mindlessly over
which berries are brown,
and contemplating
an eight foot oak with huge leaves
planted by you forty-eight years ago,
when god was a boy
before we fell out over
the vandals who broke your bike.
Yes, a grudge-bearer of sour-grapes,
well hard done by then as now.
It is still too cold to sit out
in t-shirt and shorts
when the clouds pass over.
The blossom gives way
to rampant leaf growth.
Now tell me once & for all
Is a cherry a fucking berry?
henry flower 