Tuscan Tirade

Under the Tuscan sun 

Dripping peaches 

Wet and sticky 

Fingers stuck to my pages 

Paper cuts on summer days 

Blood dripping down my finger 

Peach fuzz painted red 

Delicious 

Juicy 

Plump and perfect

 

Under the Tuscan sun 

Heated rash up my neck

Mother said not to scratch

I do when she fetches ice 

Uncomfortable 

Terrible 

Distracted 

Under the Tuscan sun 

Fresh lemonade 

Hand squeezed by mothers maids

Who never rest 

Beneath the Tuscan sun 

Mother pours it from her crystal 

Sweated pitcher 

Ice clinking 

Lips panting 

Mouth dry 

Beneath the Tuscan sun

I find my days to be dreaded

Though I’m rich in blessings

Spoiled 

In the same way that milk is 

Always rich 

Pulled from the workings of another

Gone bad 

Left out too long 

Spoiled 

Under the Tuscan sun

I’m tired of these days 

My eyes hard to lift 

Ativan makes it all heavy 

Jumping in the pool

Because I think I may drown 

Heavy 

Under the Tuscan sun 

Thinking about tomorrow