Member Poem

Rats eat the rind and leave the fruit

So kingly, like what I would want

Of course, eat the brightness

The skin that wants to spray and hold and bounce

Simultaneously

Not the dull, opaque flesh

Eating the rind, like skiing down a skyscraper

Louis XIV rotting his teeth on sherbet

Never rehearsing without an audience

Sleeping through the boring parts

Serving the tongue, confounding the gut

Skin deep, all the way around