Poetry: All My Radishes

Poetry: All My Radishes

all my radishes are spicy
bright magenta or red
some kind of purple
you want to put in your mouth
pull them from the ground and slice
to low fi hip hop
low fi radishes
hipster shit
artisan radishes

before they left the earth
their maker drew
a bright moon
on a screen

the kind of moon
you only see in photoshop
or your day dreams
when you stare through
windows leaves wildflowers
at the no moon sky

this light pollution
makes great art
when all you have
is your mind
and pepperkick
covered in cold butter
on a hoagie roll

I never knew salted Earth
could taste so clean