Shauna Osborn

Mangoes in Early Fall

There's no civilized way to eat some fruits–-

just savage sucking & ripping of flesh, 

the large white seed in the center 

waiting to be exposed. Bite into it 

like an apple or a peach–such sweetness 

drips down the throat, blonde fibers 

much like corn silk & just as uneatable. 

This exotic tropical fruit–only seen in 

romantic comedies located in some

exotic place–never grown amongst

the pear trees & grape vines. & when 

the large white seed with remaining amber 

mohair is put on the plate with the 

toughened shaved skin (read rind)

that couldn't be chewed, the poem is done 

gone, left in the space of time that can only 

be broken with teeth marks through inviting 

red/green flesh

This poem first appeared in Cultural Weekly culturalweekly.com.

Curator's notes

Allison Adelle Hedge Coke:

This bit of tantalizing beauty brings full flavored poetic process into the tactile challenge of devouring whole fresh fruit. Nothing good comes easy, you might say, and yet, every bit of it is nourishing and brings some sense of relative sensory element worth the taking. Fulfilling and gorgeous.