I Will, I Will Do Now

My head, my long head burns
in fury as my teeth expand. I can taste gun powder.
It is only what I knew,
not what I begin to know now.

I can become a tomato, only when
I become a tomato.
I am not whole, or ripe,
or sweet, red flesh,
until then.

I will only be a youthful green seed, now.

And what will I do with myself?
I have let fat, green worms slither
around my precious skin.
I have laid root in rocky, dry soil.
I have hidden my aching vines from
sunlight,
and that was all then.

Now, my face pulsates as I grind
my teeth on old leather,
fighting expansion,
embracing the tension,

and I will, I will do with my sweet,
ripe fruit what I know now.

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16 thoughts on “I Will, I Will Do Now

  1. So I am reading your poetry on a Sunday morning while my coffee sits beside me losing its heat, its edge and turning just somewhat too bitter … this morning your poems are better than caffeine.

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