Ah! And red; and they have peach fuzz, ah!They are full of juice and the skin is soft.They are full of the color of my villageAnd of fair weather, summer dew, peace.
Slid out of me like stones,like peonies and roses,pricked like a holly bush,lulled me with the hymns of weevils.Loud like the lion that kills.Flew out of me like cheetahs,took hold of me like lice, like love.Ripped me open like a cougar.Rose up at me like a cream-bellied cobra.Ah! and red; and they have peach fuzz, ah!
Clattering and weeping. Diaperingand digging. Exuberant singing,firecats leaping. Peaches, morepeaches! Crates of velvety freestones.In a basket, at breakfast, with a wasp.Hail, pale stranger, come downfrom the Kunlun Shan Mountains.Beware of leaf curl, brown rot, bewarethe speckled emperor, the catapult moth.They are full…