Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole

Frankly,
my beans are in the oven 
and the bones are roasted 
for flavor 

Now if you had a thought 
let it drip like grease on
my Under-pan 

10 business days 
for urgent 

I'd be careful
closets have doors 
Keep yours locked 
And I'll keep mine
A torn worm knew you spoke in tongues
I believed it 
and put her out of her misery 
on that one blade of green grass

I hate beans