The Fire in an Avocado
Vine tomatoes look ripe
Between the hard avocados
The ones I rock under a window
In the Port-au-Prince market
I reach to lay-in farmer’s bulbs
Themselves searching out of pliant tree
In their arms the burn of feast
Press after the gallon of gasoline
Stripes of grass for avocados
I offer a mother lunch of shady mounds.
These are Christine‘s words, rearranged into a poem of my own making.
I tell you, this is harder than it looks. It forces a different style, a different apporach. I am sure I’ve not done her words justice, for she’s a favorite poet, and I am not satisfied with my own small attempt. I’d love to read the original, her poem that put the words together. Perhaps it will be revealed on ThePoCo sometime.
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if you hadn’t told me this was a chop suey piece, i would have believed you wrote it directly b/c it flows so beautifully, especially the first half!
i, too, am anxious for the big reveal of the original pieces.
Hey! I used these words, too. Amazing how different all our poems sound, even with the same words. I would not have guessed they originated from the same source(s).
I like it. Nice job, and I love the title.
Deb, thanks for the shout out. Yo me, you have made the words come alive in your own unique, fire-filled voice. I love it! And the photo of the cut up words is genius. That’s really a great way to work on these. I was scratching out all over my paper.
And you’re right, they are hard to do.