service / Lila Goldstein

service

Lila Goldstein

there are too many poems about

oranges but split this tangerine

with me and suck the pith and spit it out

unless you want to almost choke

because you hate to swallow it

and let me wipe the juice from

both our chins and let’s wipe

our sticky hands on each other

look away i’m talking to myself

i get a bit carried away in my poems

but anyway it’s been a little while

since i’ve eaten any variety of orange

not that it’s your fault and

unfortunately working at

home depot couldn’t expunge my

new obsession with the color

a customer came in to buy

plants and soil late at night

with her quiet adult daughter

and said they spread 40 lbs of birdseed

in circles all around the yard

and all the squirrels and sparrows

and cardinals came to eat to

celebrate the end of chemo

she has ten grandchildren

to live for and it’s time to be happy again

no stranger ever spoke to me like that

what i want is only to be that open

by the time i’m seventy

i also want to have everything to

lose and to wave it around in

front of everybody’s bright faces

i hate completing sentences

i get a bit carried away in my poems

my words got much stronger after meeting you

i hope you didn’t realize they were yours and

you’re right they were some good oranges

but after you left they sat out and got moldy

look at and listen to me when i’m talking to you

here: i stole a lot of shit but you still kept it all

i’m giving it all back but you won’t get any

if this is all my fault then it’s my fault but

everything ends and then keeps going