kels(dot)blog

How quickly I go from tomatoes

in the sun, in the sermon

to screaming at the world

that grows them

Peeking orange and green

while I am red

in the face, in my voice, in my

seething

hatred

for [tomatoes]

Maybe this is the path to forgiveness, no?

I hate you and hate you and hate you

until I exhaust myself.

Vines withered in the heat

and yet they grow despite me.

How dare you even wake up

after what you’ve done,

you coward?

You and your fucking

tomato sandwich

from rotten soil.