Monday, March 2, 2015

BOUNTY

Endeavor to picture
each slender 
young strawberry—on some 

faraway bush 
underneath 
the equator—its wan little cheeks 

still benign and anemic,
but beginning 
to flush crimson 

with their 
latently conspicuous  
abundance of seed—

suddenly—decapitated!
flash-

frozen, fast-
packed, and punted 
indiscriminately 

northward—along 
with bag after
bagful

of its shy little sisters—

without letting 
yourself get too terribly 
carried away

as you shunt them—one by one
either way

down your raw throat 
so readily

and into the red gummy
prison of your blank stomach.

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