January 1st by Miro
I cut
The pineapple I bought
Last week
With the sharpest
Dull knife
In the kitchen
Slicing through
Spiky lizard skin
To sweet yellow.
I put a slice in my mouth
Tasting traces
Of fruit turning
Tarnishing the decadence
And the work
Presenting perhaps
An omen
For things to come.
Based in NYC, Miro (she/her) is a feminist killjoy with a penchant for poetry. When she's not putting words to the page, Miro is either at an open mic, reading something or wasting an afternoon in a museum. She has a background in environmental sustainability, gender studies and theater. Find her on Instagram: @miroreadsbooks