Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Tomato

Last night
in the pot
I ran
into the hole
into the yellow.
The smoke house thoughts
attached beyond beauty
like a rock.
Can
you believe it.
Certainty is the lie.
Remember
the truth changes
like cheese
left out on the kitchen table.
One day I bleed silver
like a sardine,
the next
the dragon takes me.
All of this pain is an envelope
I should have licked closed.
It’s all the same.
My head.
Your mother.
My body.
When a man sits down
to save his tomato,
run.