Too many seeds, too little juice —
life can be a tight squeeze.

I was angry today with too many things,
all of which had nothing to do with me,
and yet I let them all bleed,
ran through their throats with my tongue,
very silently, of course,
so as not to offend, or to be a source
of discomfort.

We’re not allowed to shake the tree, but
must wait till all the worm-infested fruits
drop of their own accord.