first avenue walk with fruit

 

   sunlight suckles
   raw flap-grass
   men on the corner—precious, linda, baby, beauty, mami—

                                                                                                                                    her hands are filled
                                                                                                                                      with voices
oh, a
tamarind—husk
            split damp fruit 

                                                                    kiting away (on the tongue)



(2009. Published in Issue 3 of No, Dear)