these shriveling red peppers are of a life no longer on the maps. their momma plants took hold of the ground out back behind my old apartment on east philadelphia avenue from when i couldn't hide excitement of having even a tiny expanse for a garden and overfilled the root space even though i should have known better.
i think there's a nail blending in with that paint too, that grey-blue which must have been on sale in bulk decades ago because it's on like every third porch in the borough, including the side porch floorboards of my brick castle.
and sometimes, life is about saying goodbye to neglected strips of what is too hot to trot mouth-wise, apparently. maybe.
Maybe so! Don't know if you are familiar with Jerry Clower and his joke about the guy who got a piece of too hot chicken in his mouth and spit out across the dinner table, with the punch line being, "there's many a man woulda tried to swallow that."
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