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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.