Apple


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Posted by Edith on February 15, 1999 at 21:32:41:

Disappear
wisp of smoke that is my soul
be drank up, nectar of my flower--
I don't want to die
I want to vanish in the air

the roundness of apples soothes
--the good things of nature are smooth:
waxy leaves of tall, smart trees
whose roots are sank so deep
and the earthworms who tunnels drive
to airate
and keep these things athrive

But I contradict these
all
with the sharp squareness of my bones,
the pointed evil, uncontrolled
that rattles roughly in my bowels--
My face that is so coarsely hewn,
undelicate and old
can rot an apple from the moon
and turn a lightning bolt to cold--

I fit nowhere you see
not even here at home--what home?
Living here, sleeping here
and sometimes even eating here?
I'd rather be long disappeared

Maybe to be an apple round
with a skin of tight dark red
and hang upon a wax-leaved tree
and drink the dew that comes to me--

I'd be pretty--I'd be harmless
unless you got too much of me
and taste my heart of darkness
Did you know my seeds
my seeds are arsenic?

Cut me in half, and dissected
am I not lovely?
Two white firm halves
pretty shapes, like breasts
with poison black nipples
to tempt you Idiots

Take a bite and I am sweet
but my core is unyielding to you
savor my nipples, my seeds--
swallow the nectar of my flower
Vanish like soft blue smoke
and fall from your Ivory Tower


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