Saturday, April 2, 2011

And I shall call her "Mrs. Buttered Toast"

     I have strangers going through my room, while I sit mute downstairs. I am making up names for a pet I don't have and eating expensive pineapple, (it's out of season here). 
     In fact, thirty-seven minutes prior found me searching for said pineapple among the monied hipsters and professors at the local, organic City Market. 


    I walked on my toes amid crowds of dreaded heads, expensive leather, the onslaught of patchouli, wave after wave. It was my treat, this golden fruit. Tax return snugly nested in my account, I was ready to yank out its feathers and force it to fly. Get my golden fruit, you filth. 
Fly. 


     Now I eat in silence, cubes of soft gold-yellow disappearing to the rim of my mouth, falling to the soft dark of my middle, leaving faint smells of Hawaii, Florida, Cuba on the pink of my fingers, sliding into the open cracks on my knuckles, making red go snap! Here, bitch!
     I hear measuring tapes cracking. I wish they would go. Harvest some pineapple or something. Be useful. 






I could use a new country, maybe Brazil

where the sun knives my skin, paring it down to the flesh of a peach
where even saudade is an overripe taste, a bearable linger like the
sun through the skin of leaves.


5 comments:

  1. You have a way with words. When people write turns of phrase that make me jealous, they win the interwebz. It's not mine to give, technically, but let's not argue over details.

    The last part, esp., "where the sun knives my skin..." is lovely. Here's a toast (heh) to your gold-yellow cubes.

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  2. I´m infatuated (yes, I´m using that word!) by your snapshotty style =) Lots of brain-candy for me here -- yum!

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  3. Great description, and the change-up to something more serious is natural without being forced.

    More than anything, now I just want some damned pineapple.

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  4. Hi there Jenny -

    Assuming you're still okay with me sticking down pros and cons...

    I wasn't sure about:
    1. I wasn't sure if you were forcing the pineapple or the tax return to fly, but does make sense now I re-read it. Pineapples are kind of feathery so I got confused.
    2. The 'making red go snap' took a bit of processing, but if that's the juice getting into an open wound then I got it (and it's good).
    3. Wasn't sure what the strangers were up to beyond 'measuring', it nagged at me, but I guess it doesn't really matter. Probably my own anal retentiveness.

    I liked:
    1. The pineapple 'obsession' - one clear idea that worked really well and it's unusual. Great thing to write about.
    2. The onslaught of patchouli, the faint smells of Hawaii, etc. from eating the fruit. Lovely and evocative.
    3. The 'harvest some pineapple or do something. Be useful.' made me laugh.
    4. I love the attitude and your clipped way of writing.

    I'd go with Chris' comment about want some damned pineapple. lol.

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  5. @ R.S. Bohn: You have no idea how much I admire your stories. Really. It's gross.

    @ asqui: Ah! Good to see you out and about with a new post! Must bop on over!

    @ Chris: Thank you, it was the thing of the moment. These long, harsh winters make me grab for anything resembling the tropics.

    @ Stephen: If you care to comment, I will take it! Feedback from you is helpful - what's clear to me is usually somewhat foggy to the reader. But, alas. So many kinds of readers out there.

    Thank you all for the comments - my response will likely go unread seeing as I was so tardy in my words back, but a thank you is in order nonetheless.

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