CHOPPING SPINACH
I’m chopping spinach
deep, dark,
vertiginous green
spinach
green beyond
the colour of your
regular, ordinary,
vegetation gods
only commensurate
with those
off the scale
the ones
who demand
blood sacrifice
for whom
a finger would
be an
appetizing tidbit
and so
I am careful how
I chop, mindful
how I slice
poems 2 die for 