Excerpt from Apricots

“…Bombolino dreamed of apricots

the night before he wed. Wondered

briefly the next morning what it meant,

such visitations in our sleep, portent

of a certain kind of sweet, a clue

to look back upon his life as warned

or promised in night’s gypsy trance.

Ah, he’s fine with chance. The plastic

razor dragged up his outstretched neck…”