by Bradd Howard
apple core tumbling down the inter-state
flung carelessly out the driver's side window
I licked the pulpy freshness off my fingers
and tasted the sweet in the corners of my mouth
You ripped the fruit right off my core
and left me
white, frail, and gnawed on around the edges.
no one wants to eat the core
I'm too full of seeds and hard chewy pieces
but in this fact comes the consolation that
seeds eventually grow into something
and that my chewy pieces make me-me.
and that is my core... fruitless but full
Posted on 04/28/2005
Copyright © 2020 Bradd Howard
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Heide McAlister-Bates on 04/29/05 at 03:20 PM|
Yummy. I like this so much.
|Posted by Elizabeth Seago on 12/26/06 at 04:36 PM|
"!" I absolutely adored this piece. (So much so, that I'm adding it to my favorites.) It's difficult to finally come to that absolution...that even though you're fruitless, you have the power within you to become something so much greater than your circumstances. Great write. Even better read. I'm going to check out some more of your stuff. =]
|Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 10/15/07 at 07:35 AM|
I like very much the abruptness of transition from view of core to the being it... the association made, you are that thing and go on to explain yourself "chewy" and full of seeds"!