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Poetry At Greenville Laurence J. Sasso, Jr.
HARVESTING THE INNER GARDEN My finger squeezing in like a brother next to the carrot encounters a shard of sharp stone
blood and loam clog under the nail
While I shake off pain I think maybe the stone is exotic: moon rock, meteor chip buried to wait
I am injected with planets
my genes are affected
children of my children will leave craters where they walk
tides will rise up to their breasts their mouths, ears, noses will be mouth, ears, nose xxxof the moon
they will look back xxxxto me across streams of bright vapor
the carrot comes loose xxxxllike a boy tooth
I grunt and I suck on my finger
I taste star.
Copyright © Laurence J. Sasso, Jr. |