The Melon-Baller

I scoop out the melons
with my huge blunt knife
refrigerate them briefly
snatch them out at midnight
have my way with them,
the plumpest, prettiest, and best
melons at the grocery
I lie in wait for them
gouge them, ruin them, wound them,
when I’m done they’re bruised
and rotten, no one else
will eat them, no one else
will touch them; I am the man
who makes love to melons;
I’m sick and perverted
but so happy and juicy
and now I taste sweet

Jessy Randall

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