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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.
Used by permission of the author.