Postcard Poetry: Day 7

Translation:

_____

I wanted to write an ode 

To an omelette, but my

brunch spot was closed. 

Instead I walked to buy

some plants -- sweet basil, 

heirloom tomato, taxi tomato, 

cilantro. I line them up on 

the stairs that I climb to

enter my apartment. I have

no pots to re-plant them.

I swat a mosquito from my 

tricep -- "Don't suck MY blood!"

He says, "Hey, we all gotta 

eat," and he flies off. Now

I sing of the food chain. /

_____

jb