By Kaine Spitak
she grew green onions in her garden
soft, damp topsoil towering impenetrable stalks
we never ate them,
but let them flourish and invade the rotten tomato patch
too green to harvest
“they’ll ripen on the window sill”
withered green tomatoes watched forlornly
from the kitchen windowsill, her favorite fruit
the onions become fortified,
emerald waves untouched a child rebuked
gift forsaken
heritage forgotten
family disappointment
the thickest skin is always the greenest
Catching Lizards the story of a girl who ate 45 scoops of ice cream