Fruit & Vegetables Picked from Daily Life

i.
Brush shaped like a corn cob,
my hair tangling between its kernels. It’s so awkward,
smiling at the hairdresser as she plays
tug-of-war with my scalp.

She laughs with her bald husband. Hearty as a potato.
Their voices chews through my head
like a combine harvester. I’ll make fries and mash
and chips of these potatoes. I’ll boil and fry
and sauté them.

But anger is just a monoculture of maize,
corny. Some people are just empty bell-peppers.
It’s not your fault you aren’t
a Michelin Chef.
Live with it.

ii.
I don’t want to see bulbs
of pomegranates, and imagine
being one under your palm. Me, squish-able
as a cherry tomato under a tow-truck.

I want to see the pomegranates my dad planted
for me drooping in the garden. Bark as strong
as my grandma’s arms,

rippling, when she screws open
the pickle jar. Only ripened,
is when we pinch them off the tree. My purity.

iii.
Don’t scrunch your face up like
___o__kǔ guā.
___o__Momordica charantia. Balsam pear.
___o__Bitter Mellon. Bitter cucumber. Bitter gourd.
___o__Leprosy gourd.

iv.
I fell in love with a broccoli woman whose head flowered
into florets of poetry. At first, her presence
was nutritious. We were both so green,
until she left me for a carnivore,
a smiling man. I drowned in a pool of salt,

as I tried weeding out all the bugs
in me. I still dream about our grazing leaves,
two girls who once loved.

v.
Fruit & Vegetable Coffin Blueprint

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