"Zucchini"
By
Holly Day


Zucchini

for months, I watched as the vine
wrapped itself around pieces of tree and suffocated my tomato plants
and wondered why I had wanted it there
why I had allowed something so invasive to take roots
among my violas and columbines, its leaves
so broad they took all daylight away
killed even the grass struggling to grow through
hastily-thrown piles of mulch

then one day
I went out and checked under the leaves
and saw the giant boner that
has seemingly sprouted overnight
and more than one, little ones, bigger ones,
all saluting me like an army of men
broken down to their most important parts
no irritating voices, no grasping hands,
no embarrassing morning-afters

and really, I wonder
fingers prying loose the gigantic squashes, feeling their hollow, cool
weight
with trembling anticipation
how much zucchini
can one person actually eat?