I hold on to delusion only so long. Like pocket change. Spent or lost please don’t ask me to keep a secret. I’d love to eat me a piece of fruit. An apple or heirloom tomato. Stoned I may be but in no way am I impolite. I wish I had a dog. I have an βI β₯ dogsβ picture frame with nothing in it. I press my nose to the glass & pray for someone to love me. I’ve been having trouble getting home. Directions have lacked a certain accuracy. I keep stopping for gas. One of these days I’m gonna run out & just start walking. I develop a skill for baking. My specialty is making a piece of cake. The secret is nothing but carrot. I mean this ain’t citrus country!
Marc Meierkort π
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Citrus Country
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About the Author
Marc Meierkort is the Managing Editor of Court Green. He earned his MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago in 2022, where he served as the inaugural Efroymson Editorial Assistant for Allium, A Journal of Poetry and Prose. Previously, he taught high school English for 19 years. A Pushcart Prize nominee, his poems have appeared in Neologism Poetry Journal, The Main Street Rag, New Note Poetry, and Allium, among others.