Swizzle Stick

Succulent

Fat, padded teardrops
spill from a swinging
basket, fleshy, engorged
& blue-green. Is it wrong
to wish to bite, to sink
in my teeth, to chomp down
on this succulent plant,
chew on the donkey's tail?

From the bed, cucumbers
grow indignant. But I see
the relief in their gloss,
sensed by awakening carrots,
long tendrils, orange fingers
emerging from the dirt
& not wanting me,
not inviting my bite -

but that potted Sempervivum,
a rosette plum pudding
plump & sugar-purple,
is just asking to be bitten.

The chillies, red as lipstick,
would just bite me back.

Three aubergines, petite
& pale, hang coyly
not ready for mouths -

I should just bite down
on a cactus, & be done.



April 10 - the plant world.