SALAD DAY

SALAD DAY

I curl up
at the edges

nibble at
whatever stale salad
happens to be in the fridge

(which jokingly I designate
my Salieri salad)

these days
        no one to share a joke
with (on point, or
              off-colour)

no one to
profess to, moths devouring
my academic gown

no one
       ventures here
onto the farm to
   find me in my cave

my tiny
       cave

no visitors here, well,
not since Plato.