GH O TI

f i sh

Issue No. 1

Fig Juice

Carl Sandburg’s
tawny red poppies
made me hungry
so I went and ate
five purple figs
one after the other,
leaving their tips to sit
on the kitchen counter.
But I felt bad
about my carelessness,
so I grabbed them
and dumped them
into the rubbish bin.
And here I’ve
smeared with my
passing palm
some of the mauve-ish
fig juice
on this page,
right down the middle
of this poem.
Damn!

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