She bit the pear

Standard

poor mrs pear, i pity herShe bit the pear.
It was bruised on one side,
Splotches of brown and blood,
But segued into a hemisphere
Of pristine fruit,
Like the patchwork of verdant fields from an airplane portal
Looking down on the mottled paradise
Of Middle America
Veined by ribbons of Lincoln Town Cars
And lime green hybrid electro-cars

Which side did she bite?
And what kind of metaphysical question is this?
Was the pear rouged on one side
With dyes mitred through a
Rube Goldberg of glass and alchemy?
Or was it unlucky in landing,
Its face pressed, injured and without a Samaritan
Against a gravelled road,
Its Janus smiling at the California sun?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s