Green Tulip canopy

Weathered hands cut a delicate pepper

Cicada orchestra.

Pink, soft, curving couch

Fresh brownies are tasted together

A spice that lingers.


A boy was brought to my house:
I was told he needed straightening out.
He acts aggressive towards me
I am pleasant back.

Before he leaves, I offer him a gift
Habaneros from my garden.
I tell him they’re crazy hot
That he should wear gloves to cut them.
He eats one whole-
Then freaks out.

Later, after drinking a gallon of my milk
He questions my ethics and asks
“Why don’t you lie?”
While his head is in my toilet.

I do my best to hide my laughter.