Organic Shifts

Soy in cubes and bean
and paste, the water
murky for papier-mâché.
Newsprint strips hardened
into craft for third grade history
on my kitchen table.
I made mummies of every
cardboard body, Cleopatra
and Nefertiti painted in gold
on boxes flattened in the yard,
small bumps like tempeh
I would not try without
white bread disguise.
Now in adult nutrition,
flax seeds could be fish
oils muddled with Gulf Sea
black and blue. Upstream
salmon raw pinker than
pastel eggs sitting
plastic in the grass. Leaves
shout skyward as Venus
takes the zenith long
enough for Mars to cry.


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