There is cool comfort In the coldness of gazpacho That during summer Fills burning mouths Made from the souls Of martyred tomatoes Brought forth by the Earth and sun This cold sweet blood Brings balance To carless, unbridled passions Cold tasty bloody gazpacho Leaves pleasantries and joy The only kind to drink Warm, metallic blood ...

  A swirling shell   That holds inside Beauty and bounty Under the guise Of tart apples, sweet corn, Juicy grapes, and zesty squash Waiting for hungry visitors To arrive and nosh Leaves twirl downwards Around the banquet But people don’t come They tend to forget What true beauty and bounty Is needed for life ...