Something Desperate Poem by Anthony Liccione

i pluck an apple
from a giving tree

and toss it up
high it spins and twirls,

as crows swarm around
with their awful wings

ready beaks like knives
they cut away the skin

with no intent of doing me
a favor in their fighting hunger

as gravity takes it back
down to my hand skinned-

clean and ready to eat,
i take a bite and walk away

from something desperate; as
the world spins blank space.

then i realize things this good
never lasts forever,

knowing all too soon the core
will be stuck between my teeth.