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ISSN: 1941-4137 |
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Volume Five Issue One |
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Don't Just See the Tree in the Broccoli The mist is rising from the water In the pot where you bathed The edible green trees that make us Serenade the sun that in turn Feeds the soil under our skin Akin to the orgasmic cooling volcano Shaped cupcake that beckons us To love under a swirling blue sky But now it is still dawn on the plate And I must cross the roasted Himalayas With knife and fork I make my way Through a rugged valley of potatoes Littered with rosemary scented pine needles Outside our window, night presses on The world's dinnertime wanders the globe |
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