I’ve written the word 'lemons

I’ve written the word 'lemons'

six times on the back of a bill.

The fly is a black, frantic knot

beating its head on the sill.

The glass is so clear it’s a lie,

a barrier it can’t understand.

Thinking is just that same buzzing,

a bird’s nest of thread in my hand.

It’s all tangled up in the tin,

too messy to ever pull straight.

The harder I try to untie it,

the more I am forced to wait.