Pistachio

Pull all wing off of the moth
pull all nickel from your pocket
Now trace that coin upon the wing
, and with edgy metal
, crop it.

What you have left
be portioned of
the rat-bug-wingy-wonder
Circles of
ug-ly-fuzz-ed wing,
man’s gift is nature’s sunder

In another room
shell yes peanut
wash clean
saliva true
Lay slain
the nut
upon a platter
stick twice
with salt and goo

Preheat soft air
blows by your bed
combine
wing template-peanut
Gently wrap
clothy-flake
of wing
to hug
“gleamed-Arachis”
shut

So cooks it does
and time goes “bye”
while waving children gather
“My, smells good”
sayyounggreed eyes,
hungry with sight,
rather

After hours and days
why time
how pain
trans-for-ma-tion
it is complete
Results of tedious cruelty
, man: Evil’s ingenuity,
the pistachio is
there to eat.

by R.J. Bevans

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