I Don’t Buy Basil Anymore

I don’t buy basil anymore.
Not bearing to see the leaves tethered to their fibrous stems
Laying flat, maybe secure, probably imprisoned
In the plastic clamshell
Maybe a haven, probably a coffin.

I don’t buy basil anymore
My eyes too weak against the tear gas of its scent.
Scorching summer afternoons
Thorny zucchini…