continuing in a fruity vein, quite coincidentally too...
I got the last tangerine, and that was lucky because that tangerine tasted beautiful, just like a real tangerine. I saw it in the large tray set out for workers to pick through for their lunches; sitting there on its own among the oranges and apples and pears, no bananas today, but yes, one tangerine. This citrus prize was different though, at least on the outside. It had a dark scar running all the way around it crossing through the navel and sending out irregular dark stains in the circumnavigation around its orange, pitted skin. And I guess that's why it was there, and I guess that's why I received a strange glance when I picked it up - although admittedly, with my own mild suspicion - and dropped it into my bag, and I guess I was lucky because underneath those markings which made the tangerine appear ugly, I eventually - at lunchtime - found the same ole tangy bite of fresh, nose-tickling tangerineness of any ordinary, alive tangerine. It even had that ripe smell on the skin, a covering, which when folded, let out a mist of vapour, the same substance which is used to make essential oil of tangerine; that tickled my nose too. Yum.
Poetry by Eli
Read 815 times
Written on 2010-04-29 at 07:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The Tangerine
I got the last tangerine, and that was lucky because that tangerine tasted beautiful, just like a real tangerine. I saw it in the large tray set out for workers to pick through for their lunches; sitting there on its own among the oranges and apples and pears, no bananas today, but yes, one tangerine. This citrus prize was different though, at least on the outside. It had a dark scar running all the way around it crossing through the navel and sending out irregular dark stains in the circumnavigation around its orange, pitted skin. And I guess that's why it was there, and I guess that's why I received a strange glance when I picked it up - although admittedly, with my own mild suspicion - and dropped it into my bag, and I guess I was lucky because underneath those markings which made the tangerine appear ugly, I eventually - at lunchtime - found the same ole tangy bite of fresh, nose-tickling tangerineness of any ordinary, alive tangerine. It even had that ripe smell on the skin, a covering, which when folded, let out a mist of vapour, the same substance which is used to make essential oil of tangerine; that tickled my nose too. Yum.
Poetry by Eli
Read 815 times
Written on 2010-04-29 at 07:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
CPom |
|
MIK136PARKS |
| Texts |
 by Eli Latest textsCyberattacklove & drugs time passes and chances avail fixer Welding Burns |
Increase font
Decrease