Tomatoes
We were in silent prayer in the garden
Feeling second-hand and lazy
With nice heirloom tomatoes growing
Around us
Let us lead them from the stomping –
And all those tobacco viruses
Our family needs the well.
For years we’ve slept in the same room
The children and us smack away the mites
On nights the thunder broke our bodies
And we became shy to the windy shadows
We consume the juices of the fruits
Kill the poverty from our heads
Separate us from the worms
We shouldn’t run away
When the man wants his money
All the hospitals want to own us
And hear them knocking down our doors
They garnish my wages
Force me to bankrupt depressions
Watch the money fall from dark clouds
In the many miles barely in our view
Damn it!
It makes me feel psychotic
I want to dissolve in this fertile dirt
Continually,
Crash me to the vines
When bruised and stabbed
I will just stink in the swarming heat
In the well,
Lay all my scriptures
Wolfpack Contributor EIC Bios: David L O’Nan & HilLesha O’Nan
