There are black bruises on the eggplant
I meant to eat last week.
They mar its purple sheen.
On the top shelf of the fridge,
the Tuscan kale wilts. Flaccid frills
gracing the glass of good intentions.
The foliage on the treadmill in my bedroom
is muscle shirts draped Dali-esque,
a garden smelling of newness, rubber, time.
Along the baseboard, a motley police
line-up: dumbbells, kettlebells, medicine balls.
The faces of guilt.
Ken Craft is a teacher and a writer living west of Boston. His poems have appeared in The Writer's Almanac, Verse Daily, Plainsong, Gray's Sporting Journal, Off the Coast, Spillway, Slant, Angle Journal of Poetry, The High Window, and numerous other journals and e-zines. The Indifferent World, his first poetry collection, was released in 2016 by Future Cycle Press. His second collection will be released by Kelsay Books in December. You can visit him on the web at kencraftpoetry.wordpress.com.