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August 7, 2014


they're called common mango

because whole forests
grow wild on their own;
some trees 5o feet tall
are difficult to harvest

so when the overripe fruit
finally plummets its black skin
splits exposing yellow flesh
fit only for ants, wasps,
and the ubiquitous feral pig

i dream of distilling spirits
from this abundance; the windfall
pounds my roof like insistent fists

but instead i just bait
the live trap with them
as if the pigs didn't have a million
better options all over the land

i pick them off the ground, peel and eat,
stringy bits stick between teeth, marvel
to think: here i am, a suburban kid
whose dream it was to live in manhattan
(been there, done that, evicted myself)

now i just feed chickens, collect eggs,
and contemplate another solitary sunset

PPF #14/31