Like a Strawberry
Like a strawberry.
Seeds on the outside.
Tethered vines of trees.
In the grass.
I have to eat sometimes.
Just yummy stuff.
There’s no one there.
So I stir a little more.
Look outside the outside place.
And you’ll think of berries and shrubs too.
That could be endless.
Like socks, and tendons.
I have to eat them all.
Rancid and sweet.
Nothing but outer space.
Past that tree.
I have to grind it all up.
With strawberries, and blueberries.
Making some jam.
And growls.
Inedible jam.
We took the sludge we made.
Worth nothing.
Tossed it into space.
Like a strawberry.
Gets thrown away right off the vine.
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