Monday, December 04, 2006

a going away gift from me...

I'm gonna avoid this blog and most of my e-mail for a week or so, because my students' writing portfolios are coming in today...which means grading hell will soon commence. As a going-away gift, a memento from my days writing poetry, previously published in the long-defunct Conspire:

an apple: 6 reflections

Wel bet is roten appul out of hoord
Than that it rotie al the remenaunt'
---G. Chauser

you say
"let us observe an apple"

I look closely at the apple
study its imperfect roundness
marvel at its almost luminescent yellow-green hue
contemplate its slowly advancing brown patches

I pronounce it a Golden Delicious

you say
"maybe its very greeness is a slap in the face

I always think of red apples
our apple is green, not red
our apple is not happy just being
fresh and juicy
crisp to the bite
an instrument of good health
our green apple is a rebel

but what's wrong with red?
what is wrong with being typical, expected, traditional?
does the apple see something we have missed?
what does he know?
he must be rebelling
only for rebellion's sake"

another might say
"maybe the brown patch is the key
maybe the apple has seen the error of empty rebellion
and is trying to become normal, red, typical
trying too late, perhaps
but still making the effort to change"

he might say
"maybe the apple knew
he was flawed from the start
full of rot, decay, disease
knew he was dying
but was having too much fun
being different
to change"

another might say this
I just say
"I only see a Golden Delicious"

I now take our apple and slice it open
look at the two halves
study the bruised flesh hiding just beneath the skin
marvel at the sweet, dripping juices
contemplate the seeds imersed in the fruit's heart

you pronounce it butchered

you say
"I think the decay inside the apple is your fault

maybe the apple is hurting
(the bruise, her wound)
because she will be manhandled, squeezed
as you check for freshness

maybe the apple is crying
(the juice, her tears)
because she can now only turn brown and rot
since you have dissected her

maybe the apple is despairing
(the seeds, her offspring)
because you will throw her children away
like debris

again you say
"now let us observe the apple"

I look closely at the apple
study its severed proportions
marvel at the dried, sticky juices
contemplate the torn out stem

yet I can only pronounce it a Golden Delicious

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