A glorious fruit
        Hanging casually on a branch

Split from the navel to the jaws
        Blood red insides exposed to the open air

Extended Hexagons packed in tight
        Layered with skin around skin around skin

Separate little cubicles
Filled with chemicals
That change lives

And sometimes
       The lives of birds

(They pecked into my pomegranate)

Ants and growth and decay and filth
         Swarm the ****** wound with unbelievable skill
                          And understanding

I choose to not let this one go back to the earth quite yet
         Some would say I’m a hippie like that

Quickly carried to the operating room
        (The kitchen)
Slammed on the operating table
        (The cutting board)
First incision made
        (Broke in half)

Guts
         Spill
                  Everywhere

But deep inside
        Surrounded by the ants and growth and decay
                 And filth

The most glorious Rubies
Packed with care and understanding

Nature never ceases to amaze
       Its capability to produce such pure
                Uncontaminated raw potential
                        In an environment of such decay

I suppose we do have a chance.