The Mulberry Tree on Jasper Drive

Edward wanted to cut down

the mulberry tree in the front yard

but found unexpected resistance

in the form of a crying six-year-old daughter.

Hiccuping sobs,

snot running down her nose

into her open mouth

on her tragedy mask face.

“Those berries stain the driveway,”

Edward accused.

“But I eat them every year,

and I never will agaiiiiiin!”

Molly wailed.

“Why do you even want to?

They taste terrible!”

“No, I love them!”

she countered.

“Nonsense!” Edward huffed.

“No one likes eating mulberries.”

“If you cut down the tree,”

she posited between gasps,

“you’ll kill all the squirrels

and baby birds

and their mommies

and daddies will cry forever!”

“Oh for Pete’s sake,”

her father sighed.

“Fine. We’ll keep the damn tree.

But I’m cutting back some of

the branches.”

Catastrophe and murder averted,

Molly wiped the tears and mucus

away from her face,

red with the exertion of her outburst,

and smeared these fluids

all over her father’s shirt.

“Can I have a snack?” she asked him.

“Go eat some mulberries,” he replied.

One Pot Meal

My favorite perfume

is diced ginger root,

green onions,

and minced garlic

with a hint of jasmine rice

bubbling away in the cooker.

When the aromas

linger on my hands,

I hold them close to my face

and deeply inhale,

and it’s what love smells like

because I’m cooking you

my favorite dinner.

Nothing fancy,

takes me about 15 minutes

once everything is chopped,

but it’s what I’d request

on Death Row, I think.

Just one last taste of

a good day.

Broad Street

Silver dimes and quarters

carried in a chubby fist,

metal ridges rubbing against my palm.

Maybe Mom gave them to me for cleaning my room,

or she handed them to me to get me out of her hair

or I found a coin glittering on the sidewalk,

the child’s version of a lottery win.

I walked four blocks to the pharmacy,

all by myself because it was the ‘80s.

I was only interested in the candy aisle, of course.

The rows of chocolate bars—krispies and caramel

and nougat and almonds—

too expensive for my allowance.

The candy cigarettes, with their aura of sin,

but not much flavor.

Bubblegum with jokes printed on the wrappers,

only a fleeting pleasure.

So I would choose the Jolly Ranchers,

sour, long-lasting, just a quarter for the long sticks,

a dime for the smaller pieces.

Cherry, watermelon, grape,

but I’d always choose the green apple,

if I could get it.

It would dissolve into nothing in my mouth,

and I drank down the sugary acidic juice with pleasure,

even as the candy itself

sharpened itself into a point

that scraped against my tongue.

Otherworldly Haikus

I woke up in an

alien world yesterday.

Wow, what a surprise!

This new world looks a

lot like our own, but there are

subtle differences.

The language is strange,

and I live thirty seconds

faster than others.

Their foods taste odd, and

there are new, rich aromas

I cannot describe.

People access the

Internet through implants in

their eyeballs and brain.

People’s cars hover

just above the road’s surface

but still emit smog.

Coca-Cola tastes

spicier here, but Starbucks

remains just the same.

Chiquita

There’s a banana-shaped planet

somewhere out in space.

It’s out there because I say so.

It orbits an oval-shaped sun,

a green striped watermelon, if you will,

and is orbited itself by fifteen

tiny clementine moons.

Its nearest neighbor is flattened at its poles,

like a tomato from the garden.

The ends of the banana

are very, very cold,

icy and dark.

The middle of the banana is a tropical rainforest.

Other parts of the banana are arid deserts,

and some are temperate zones with all four seasons.

It rotates around as it orbits its sun,

So it’s not like there’s one dark part of the banana

that never sees light and warmth.

All the creatures on this planet are well-suited

to the part of the banana on which they live,

whether they are themselves banana-shaped or not.

It’s not more ridiculous

than planets that rain diamonds

(which is true!)

or magnetar stars

that could dissolve your molecular structure.

So somewhere out there

in the vastness of space,

there’s a banana-shaped planet

because I say so.