fuckin' farmers

The avocado trees
have been staring at us 
from all down the hill
with eyes of green. But

I bet if we pluck just
the low-hanging fruit
we'd harvest ourselves 

in a crop serene, and creamy
and fat

- with only a touch 
of rugose exterior, no 
not much

and you'd crown yourself queen 
of this Town Day parade, and fat 
yourself full on such fruits 

we've made.