i slice wedges
and suddenly realize
i am not unlike
the tuber i'm cutting so
-maliciously-

this chunk of earthy flesh
takes many shapes&form;;
constantly changing
yetalwaysstill
a potato

a seed unto itself
ready to spread roots
wherever it may land

living in dark solitude
yet always reaching up
towards light-
towards life-

i find a hidden bad spot
and carefully [eradicate it]
such a good potato
should not go to waste