The Prune (Ghazal) - Poem by Leslie Alexis
It was smooth and solid when I picked it,
But after month it became a wrinkled old lady.
Whose youthful navy blue aged into purple,
The color of the potent juice that comes from it.
One day in ignorance, I drank a full cup.
And that same day, a whole lot more came out of me.
Pepto and Mr. Magnesia could not compare.
It s was a repulsive sight and hence no more.
The next day I felt as light as a bee,
Who jumped and screamed whoopee doo doo.
Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis
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