A pepper that made its way to us by an Indian.
A pepper that is not familiar.
Almost as if it walked on its own like a minion.
From a distance it appears like a miniature pumpkin.
Yet with the smell of an powder. The spicy bitter taste is weird like my middle name Kin.
When it touches me, I can feel the roughness.
Just like leaves, they both are going through dryness.
When it is quiet in the kitchen, you can hear the seeds.
As they drop, you can hear how the sound of the pepper attacks you.
How it is so loud, as if it was yelling out.
A pepper that is not familiar.
Almost as if it walked on its own like a minion.
From a distance it appears like a miniature pumpkin.
Yet with the smell of an powder. The spicy bitter taste is weird like my middle name Kin.
When it touches me, I can feel the roughness.
Just like leaves, they both are going through dryness.
When it is quiet in the kitchen, you can hear the seeds.
As they drop, you can hear how the sound of the pepper attacks you.
How it is so loud, as if it was yelling out.
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An Ode To An Chili Pepper by Clinton Perez is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.