Dried Pineapple
Bridgette Bartlett
It's good, it's sweet, it's preservable fruit, it's convenient
I chewed on one, but it left a bad aftertaste in my mouth
So maybe it's no so good and sweet
I think I have sugar scars on my tongue
So now I sit and bite my nails
Not that good, fingernail grime is pretty tasteless
And still I chew one nail after another
Maybe it helps me hammer out my thoughts
Sometimes I feel like a pineapple being dried
In the dry heat of my surroundings
I feel like something's evaporating away
Mostly just water, maybe just time
But in the process things don't seem to be getting any clearer
Just turning that opaque dried fruit color
Someone's stupid phone ringing like a perturbed cricket
And what's this mood I'm in, why am I so disgruntled
I mean I do work in the mailroom, but so what, what do I have to be disgruntled about
Why is everyone so disgruntled
Is our luxurious lifestyle allowing us too much time to think
Yes, we are privileged to experience boredom
And I keep thinking, "I'm so fuckin' lucky"
So lucky I don't know how to handle it, I don't know what to do with myself
Which makes me feel all the more stupid
And ungrateful -- a sugar overdose hurting more than just my tongue
And I feel incredibly guilty
Like I should be doing something more, feeling something different
But the pineapple is still there, so I eat it
It's good and it's sweet
Return to Bridgette Bartlett's Writing
This page was designed by Andrew Van Alstyne. Please direct all questions/comments to him.