Sunday, December 13, 2015

Lost Pepper, Roots of Evil

Lost Pepper

While clawing at the ground,
I think I uncovered history. As others

were digging up bones,
I discovered a miniature bottle

of Tabasco sauce
and a rusty blade.

My brother, the expert, says it’s a piece of crap,
but it cuts. The tiny bottle

makes his mouth water.
He covets the burn—lost pepper, vinegar,

salt in a wound—
sustained in sediment.

I wonder how long it has aged,
savor the burn.


-

Roots of Evil

Picking out parsnips and turnips,
I decide to surprise you 
with extra beets.
I know how their sweet blood pleases you.

When it drips from your lips,
I realize how ironic it is for a vampire
to be vegan.

You wipe some juice away, 
and I pretend not to notice.

You suffered through two root
canals so your hallowed fangs 
would not show.

This is how you cancel your past.

But if I 
discover a coffin in the cellar,
or find you sleeping while
hanging upside down from the ceiling,

I will regret not buying 
garlic cloves or 
rainbow carrots instead.

-

"Lost Pepper" and "Roots of Evilwere published in Issue 12 (Fall 2015) of local Dayton journal Mock Turtle Zine. 

Past issues of Mock Turtle can be viewed online.

Eric