Peach Skin
The peach fuzz flesh was quaffed so perfectly
Over the swirl of red, pink, and orange skill
Pump until ripe appearing succulent and hinting and
concupiscence
As a matter of fruition in devouring the fruit
Picked off the tree and with a glee and a mischievous grin
As if any voyeurs were spying at the tree in the center
Of attention of this back little yard away from the everyday
deeds
That need doing and the looks that keep looking
A hand to the stem and fingers snipping like scissor hands
slicing
The botanical connection between life pumping into the pit
From water to root and sun-ray to leaf there is a threshold
of sugar
Bartering crunchy to soften the sweet
The shell and the skin a rainbow of vitality; a bite
Reveals the blackened abnormality seething and cancerous
Gangrenous and passive aggressive aftershock of bacterial
warfare
Trapped under biological combination lock
The taste is sickening and yet the consumer consumes
Poisoned until gone in the asphyxiation of an afternoon
The whole world keeps marveling at the colors on the shell
While the dead-man is incinerated quietly quite alive in the
corner of a hell
Toiling like goblins in a mine inside his entrails
Constructing a contraption of nightmares and beauty pageant
coattails
To hang around, to bear witness and celebrate the game
As if pawns ever had opinions on what rook goes to castle to
get closer to the queen
Gender optional Chasing Amy games, no matter the reality
The disparity is mooted by the needle’s polarity to point in
an identical direction
Indicated science, the aesthetic over the ethical, trumped
every time
Color by number no chance for an allowance for painting
outside these lines
No rules are rules and orchards are by invitation only
Go home hungry son, the court has work to do growing produce
For other fools, an epitaph on a bible buried with a family
crest
Too peaceful for that sanctuary, stay prostrate in the
position
Praying to quit praying for a submission to not feel sorry
for the peach skin
Folded in a memory of an aftertaste barter with buds to
erase the memory of
An ingrate mocking and sending opiates through the
hippocampus, knowing the truth is but an accident.
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