SurVision Magazine

To Err is Human


My caterpillar turned into an egg,
so I made a mini-omelet.
The day the soul of the Ohio River
left for Egypt,
I ate a turnip omelet in protest.

When the soul returned from its journey,
it was pregnant with love.
Once the Nile crocodile was aborted,
I ate a tomato grilled-cheese sandwich
in remembrance for those no longer with us.

When a waiter complemented me
on my alligator shoes, I mentioned
that he was mistaken and that my shoes
were snakeskin. The waiter insisted
that I was wearing alligator shoes,
so I ordered a turnip soup
and ate my meal in silence.




Sailors as Delectable Fruit


The tree grew within the fruit.
The fruit was a wooden vessel.
The seeds within the ship
were traditional wooden oars.
The mast was the apple's core.
I peeled off the hull
with my jackknife,
Then I ate to my heart's content.





Steve Castro was born in Costa Rica and now lives in Evansville, Indiana. His poetry has recently been published in The American Journal of Poetry, Green Mountains Review and Verse Daily, and is forthcoming in Plume; Forklift, Ohio; Phantom Drift and The Plume Anthology of Poetry 6.