The Long Nights of Pistachios.

We placed a wooden desk 

in our newfound room

under two windows

the sky caressing green

ominous clouds that mounted the horizon.

I bought pistachios.

Over the course of a night

we ate the weight of each other in these small nuts

Purpled green hues,

skin flaking off as we opened up the shells

I imagine this is what an old man’s penis looks like

‘How many of these does one have to eat before

you overdose?’, I remarked.

I got no reply as she was rhythmically prizing open more.

‘The surgeon general recommends 1oz per day’, I muttered.

We were close to that number just in the last 20 minutes.

These ritualistic little salted nuts

Therapy in a carapace

Foreshadowing my obituary

My bloated body now purple

In a casket

on display for all to see, 

my skin flaking

‘Here lies Greg Allum,

 ignoramus of the General Surgeon, 

death by pistachio’