(2 of my poems from my early 20's, during the casino construction peak, post 9-11). 
Discussion
your occasional reminder sassafrass causes cancer and pennyroyal destroys your liver - 
i was $1.88 a pound, but for you, dug deep
into pockets for the change,
i would discover myself as a new species;
from the steppes, on horseback i came to you
bow drawn, arrow to your throat.
a fur trapper, you pet me slowly, wanting a trade.
wash your hands, i growled.
and soon my forests ripe with your fern spores
shaken from the tops of your boots, and the rains
started, unfurling the shoots i could have shot
you dead - our eyes locked,
and instead, i made you tea
with longevity ginseng. forever now, you would
remember the point,
your windpipe grateful.
ⴲ.
identified because you carried the original
in your saddle bag, i, always there,
you believed i somehow became
when you noticed. yet i dwelt here digesting
in the stomachs of deer, bear, and medicine women -
since the dawn of time.
but now i have a name, they harvest me,
for a price - and though my purpose diverges
from my cousin, valuable get
the merchants sling me as an alternative,
competitive market, they coo.
and yes your heart races because my properties
make your blood run hot, not clear.
the profiteer versus the healer:
i hope you die, trapper. have some more.
i am here rooting. for you, my love: lick it clean.
ⴲ.
they warn everyone about me
in the trade commissions, the medical
establishment. you, my templar, my tempest,
skeptical of the rich men topping
evidence you witness yourself,
giants carrying girls to the stars -
to live like a flame instead of ashes, acrid.
"there is no evidence" in "science"
they suit and tie, yet an empire built on digging
roots for the hurricanes
apothecaries, grandmothers, herbalists;
living into biblical ages.
garden hands, you could fight the masses,
but when you believe your own eyes
my inflated price disappears.
for you: i am free because you are fair.
live, my love. burn.
ⴲ.
nothing in particular.
she displays no traits which explain
the health impacts of slurping her up,
like royal jelly, you drown between the thighs
like tubers reaching through the soil
to china.
like me without you. i am just doll.
when you take me in, we metabolise
and suddenly, the alchemy of digestion
magically surges through your veins,
neurone, nerve of you to not let me
race up your spine. like a series of locks, clicking
one vertebrae at a time,
i pump your blood, sweeping your heart for me.
sacrum to skull, like a lightbulb
you remember me.
let me walk in, i will show you.
i am nothing in particular,
unless you want to wake up your gut.
ⴲ.
cook me. boil. oil rubbed on my unwieldy
legs, wrapped around you, slippery
with your sweat, panting in my ear,
talk me through the recipe, bite my shoulder
while i cut out the bullet, lodged in ribbed
chest, can you identify me, by the surge
in your blood, while rushing though
tissues. i raise you to a simmer, grip tighter
the congested life i cast away,
from the selection over the counter.
slide around my dictation,
salty, my tongue tingles at the smack
salty, my hands wet with your seed,
salty, like the ocean we roll, waves
crashing over and over.
cardio for your vascular system. ancient magic.
ⴲ.
alone, the masculine use esoteric information to gain power; the feminine use it to heal the body. the hermit (magician) and the crone (high priestess). together as a team, they create healthy, prosperous communities by building with one another to develop those individuated practices into shared environmental abundance. the emperor and empress, realized.
🌱
coconut oil, slicked down
my legs in your lap, floppy sun hat, a dress
resembling those 1970s knitted hanging pot
holders.
reading a magazine, about bulbs.
barely glancing as you tell me about the day,
wiggling my toes so you rub my feet
while you lecture me.
staring at the empty spaces in the flower bed,
briefly thinking about our dark bedroom tonight,
and considering which color of wisteria
matches the munstead lavender mostest.
and you reach your climactic point -
about whatever it was and i smile sweetly,
lean over and kiss you,
and say "you are wonderful, dear".
and you, pleased with yourself,
nod triumphant, and begin sketching something new.
ⴲ.
in every lifetime, i have found them again,
in case i have the opportunity to show you,
in my hands outstretched,
i remember. i still
carry the memory for us until i might carry
the trinkets,
then your fingers interlaced in mine,
if you have forgotten:
i will remind you.
cast like a pair of dice, you and i.
set to be snake eyes staring
at those who seek to defy our choices.
the air like orange blossoms this morning
and i think i will write you
a poem. on the wall.
maybe in a thousand years,
someone will see it and wonder how
they loved so wildly.
and once again, i will find some small animals
cast in brass. because gold is now precious.
and we were real.
ⴲ.
australians: causing wine to vinegar since dickens.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pennyroyal,_Victoria?wprov=sfti1