Once I had flesh the city could pierce with a frown- I'd bleed into sewers like rain. Men without legs on subways moved me, women with swollen feet. Now I belong to them. When I ignore them it's with the confusion of the newly damned- as if I believe I've survived.
Maureen SeatonThe first time I saw hundreds of fiddlehead ferns boiling in an enormous pot I realized what an odd person I must be to hear tiny cries from the mouths of cooking vegetables.
Maureen SeatonTags: poetry vegetables
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