The carrots—still alive in their boxes
The red onions—with silk sheets coming off
The cabbage— like wax balls in a museum
The potatoes—like earth eggs
The watermelons—like field boulders
The grapes—touched with green rain
The tomatoes—clinging to their birth
The green onions—playing dead in the sun
The bananas—and their sleeping samba
The customers—with weighing eyes
The gypsy selling kittens from an orange crate
The heat under the straw—the grit on the rind
The explosions of rot—the running juices
The voice of the greengrocer— like a sun song
Love the last two lines most.
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Thank you, kindly.
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