infinite anthology: day 229

“Potato” — Shao Wei

it is a shy potato
with thin clothes, yellow as me
potatoes grow everywhere
my potato is different

i was it in spring water
smell it, and feel its desires under the small skin
it is a potato that can’t be made into
cakes or French fries
but can be transformed into energy for lovers
no matter how old they are

i remember the sweat on farmer’s backs
they work as hard as they love
my grandfather says planting a potato is planting a life

from then on
i become considerate because of my potato
its small life survives many gigantic lives
and will survive me

my potato keep its color, size until one day
it grows again in my room
grows white hairs from inside like mine
i can hear my potato calling my nickname
sweet as a singer in a white hall
audiences are my lost ancestors

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