and your artichokes look like my daughter
In the marketplace
were a tomato and an artichoke
and they both danced around a navel
that turned on its root
Dance tomato and you too artichoke
Your wedding-day will be clear as a carp’s gaze
The shoes that contemplate us
shed tears about it that are over-ripe pears
and if they sing they’ll raise a ruckus like coffins
bursting and stirring up corpses
The corpse slaps his hands like a pebble against a window
and says
No way you’ll get my tomato for that price