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Thought, Desire, and the Movement of Other Things

By Damian C. Koshnick

The peach is not in the bowl
it used to be, with the grapes;
instead, it sits now at the very edge of the kitchen’s round, wood table
by the green, empty wine bottle
where I put it yesterday.

The crease that peaches tend to have
is the critical balancing point
that prevents it from falling to the floor.
Even now, as a full breeze is blowing through the window above the sink,
the peach stays put.
Activity though, abounds around it.

I brew coffee. I chew my thumbnail.
Sitting beside it, I scratch my forehead recalling bits of a dream.
I am out of milk and sugar. A voice from the living room says,
“James Brown is dead.”

I listen to the mailman, with his afternoon envelopes
walking hastily across the porch, as the neighbor dog carries on
her tireless conversations about other moving things.

I want the peach to fall off of the table without intervening,
proof of forward motion, the push of time in the universe,
but I want to eat it too.

The breeze blows once slightly. It blows again more heavily.
A bee flies, he is stuck between two panes of glass;
the phone rings, a solitary ant jitters and shuffles across
the yellowing, broken linoleum.

The peach stays put, still life;
until, although irritated, I hastily put it to my mouth
and eat it up.

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4 thoughts on “Thought, Desire, and the Movement of Other Things -A Poem by Damian C. Koshnick

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