Knives slipping through the fruit. We
can barely keep ourselves,
Sweet juice, pineapple, that one
At the store all alone, yellow to the
Core, my wife sweet on me,
Because I was with her, picked
It with my nose and how soft it was
Felt like I was in the tropics, nowhere
Near the mountain’s, paradise in a
Bite, and honey dew, just like its name
Crisp, soft and white,  they will be
On skewers tomorrow, strawberries
And blueberries and cantaloupe,
A going away party, to dip in
That marshmallow cream, and make
Everybody happy, content
A hell of a lot more natural than
A birthday cake, a chunk to dance
Upon the tongue and make everyone
Feel like cotton candy at the state fair.