But when I came back, I was celery
or a facsimile of celery, and it took me
a while to coordinate my leaves and
the pumping system that keeps me
occupied and crisp throughout the day.
I have no teeth anymore, or else I would
crunch myself, accidentally on purpose.
I had never been celery before, or even
been especially interested in celery,
because who is? Because it’s celery.
Because I am celery. Because I am.
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13 thoughts on “Transported”
My hatred of celery has slightly lowered now, many thanks 😉
Wow, thanks! Maybe the Celery Growers of America should hire me. 🙂
I am what I am, as Popeye says.. I would crunch myself.. I like that. Inventive and rather sweet. 🙂
Thanks very much, Steph!
“I would crunch myself, accidentally on purpose” – well done. Very light hearted and a lot of fun!
Thanks, Jay. I’m glad you enjoyed it!
I’ve thought of coming back before but never, never as a piece of celery. At least I would be a delicious, healthy veggie. Love the ontology of this.
Thanks so much, George. It sounds exhausting, transporting all that water all the time …
self cannibalism. celeryism? whimsical; I can picture this voice fitting in nicely with Alice down the rabbit hole. ~
Thanks, grapeling! It’s an odd voice, for sure.
I like it! I find it amusing to imagine myself as something else. I do it a lot!
Thanks, Charles. I write a lot of persona poems for just that reason. 🙂
I’m remembering another veggie persona poem–potato, was it? Or onion? Anyway, I love this one–dharma and Star Trek and philosophically crunchy.