Orchard's Dreg
by George Korolog


She plucks him from the tree,
peels him whole,
holds the bloodied residue
of hapless fig and lemon
in her hand.

She lingers, watching
him drain, seeping
vodka, obliterating skin,
consuming root and limb.

He bleeds bitter, the crushed
temperament of dying fruit
awash in a torrent of
rage, where reverie
ends and time lies fallow.






Copyright 2020 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.