The Peachful Life

Peach flesh…so good I’d eat peach people.
Send me to a peach church, I’ll eat the peacher.
Shaman peach! Tantric peach! Ecstatic peach!
The tongue grows long and wild as a thirsty dog’s,
sliding all around reckless in full python song
after pink orange bits flung about the cave,
detonated in the opposite of terrorist attack,
to put the Garden of Eden in my wet smile.
Why eat books when you can read a peach?
Women await men brained in its peachings.