a lime in sublime time while listening to jazz

he thinks about all the ways
life could go astray
and then he wonders if there
is any meaning at which to stare
or perhaps even embrace
for a short or longer space
and rattittattat time
and then he thinks that right
now he’s alive and fine.
the farmer’s market has
started on time
and sometimes
a simple future event is enough
to make life temporarily
sublime,
like maybe a fresh, soft,
squeezable lime
from the farmer’s market
this time.
he’ll go when the jazz ends
or maybe buy some beets
after the down beat
ends.

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