Cain

First, a conversation. Now,

A volcano. Call me quick-

Tempered vegan. Turnip

Lover. Fruit licker. Mound

Maker. Quiet. I can predict

An earthquake. I can cook

A rose. I’m first to kill

A weed. The collards

Should come quick this year.

The beans may be lean.

I plant seeds and wait

All winter to eat. Some

Slaughter sheep for dinner.

Some chew leaves. Firstborn

And patient, I give ground

Color. Pull pink from

Green. Azalea, vibrant

As a lamb’s tongue. My kid

Brother killed one, but I

Dug the hole, soil still

Young, lava beneath it

Near each finger when little

Brothers tortured most

Of God’s creatures, and small

Men watched them bleed.