Orchard

watch them hang // blood oranges // ripened from the

inside out // swollen from the intake of rain // juicy // best

picked when dead // sliced from the tree // cut open

//watch the juices pour out // this field is full of trees //

tombstones // this orchard is a graveyard // watch the vines

wrap around slowly // gripping grapes // this wine has a

bitter aftertaste // hold still and listen to my blackberries

sing a flirtatious tune // it’s ripe enough // georgia peaches

still hang // blackening in the sun // this field is full of

tombstones // hanging trees // that bare fruit no one will

eat // like wine blood has a bitter aftertaste // this

graveyard is an orchard of strange bodies