Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Poem: Green Juice

Michael G. Sivak
11/12/2011 (revised from “Decomposition Suggests…” 8/3/2008; revised from untitled original, circa 10/2003)




Green Juice

Most grown, yet new
they take death

like a tap.

Maybe:

in a ditch,
or face-down upon
a hillside caked

with the tropic flotsam
of centuries’ reproduction—

bits of things:

South Asian grasses,
seeds of alien blossoms,
half-rotted fruits.

Could be:

strange pollens
encrust the dried
unshielded iris.

Perhaps:

seeds beneath them
open, take root—

Like:

slowly-writhing maggots,

born in
the spilled verjuice
of unripened flesh

never to age above
life-pickled man fat.