A Deliberate Presence
(A Beautiful Woman)

Peppers, Pat Kreppert
The harvested fruit
will enter my world
riding my tongue
with the grace
of Genghis Khan,
with the subtle nuances
of a ball peen hammer.
And I am a man
preparing to be
assaulted by peppers.

Arisen from siesta
in Ciudad de Springfield
I have wandered, drowsy in the fog,
to the warm veranda
to revive for the rest of the day.
I shall ingest a right hook to the senses
from this deceptive, deliberate fruit
whose bright hues
invite with a lie,
a plain-spoken patina
over darkest intentions,
riding the sunny serape-topped table
through the serenity of the day until I arrived.

And I am a man
who delights in
toying with tempests,
wallowing in the virility
of my capacity for self-abuse.

I will eat the peppers
and I shall prevail, eventually,
and I will stagger out of the maelstrom
of the senses alive,
revived, ready for what comes next.
It is not for the overwhelming heat
that I engage the kaleidoscope of terrors on green stems.

They are the aphrodisiac,
the catalyst to mellow mirth
fulfillment and redemption
when I conclude my little pre-amble
cut with a knife.
-- I am a man --
And they are not the whole
but the way to the whole,
to the complete cosmic interface
I shall savor
when I drink the pitcher
of tequila that will lift my soul,
and ride the magic carpet
of the sunny serape
that will take me home!

Job Conger