i paint the fruit & plead with them to hold still.
there is a bee inside the heart of every apple.
they rock back & forth, swaying with sweet. 
caramels blinking from a frosted jar. 
the still life asks if it can borrow a quarter.
carrying change is a thing of the past. now,
i just pray to a demon for my candy. everything 
is rotting on the face of the moon. canned peas 
with a silver fork. my stil life has a beard.
it has mold & moss. it has a diagnosis. refuses
to be as still as i need. i hold a paint brush 
& a ray gun. i say "you have a choice to make."

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