Tomatoes
Stuffed with periods
Gushed
To two worlds.
On cascading sewerage
P&G...Xerox...Britannia
Tossed into balls
Bell jars explode
In caterpillar voices
The green strip moves to Savannah fields
Pygmy pods open
With yellow seeds
The heart was never dark
Veins never change on map of blood...
Pitcher plants ate the last butterfly
Tattooed on my breath.
Who will make Russian salad with Chinese cabbage?
Red always cries
In tomatoes
Of Hanging Gardens buried
In tongues...
Published in Coldnoon Travel Poetics
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