by Suzán Jiván
Mom & Mom-
Mom Suzán
Hatchet-wielding
teetotalers
engines running
with the heat on
downright gloomy
cursory glances
at bare bones
row after row
rutted muddy
accession numbers
remaining covered
blackened weeds
around tree trunks
almost running
over assumptions
that generally come true
by bearing sorted-through fruits
as heritage foods
while looking to the future
cool as a cucumber...
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