Pablo Contemplates the Paradox of the Harvest Moon
Jason Ryberg
Hey you.
Yes, you.
Tell me how it is
that the moon
can be both
rose and blue,
this strangely luminescent
night-blooming fruit,
suspended so serenely, there,
in the sweaty, swampy,
nearly-liquid
midnight air,
there, just above
the darkly churning
blue-green
broccoli-stalk
horizon of trees.
And, what with
the ghostly tangerine glow
of streetlamps
and the invisible ocean
of oregano, mimosa and mint,
basil, lemon and hyacinth,
and of course
all these dangerously tart
and ripe tomatoes
lolling about
the scene …
well, the world tonight,
must truly be
a veritable
vegetable garden
of urgent
and earthy
delights.