...we are clamoring for summer, and so are the fruits, sweating through plastic on franklin avenue...as a youngun' in cali wayyy back i was given my own toddler-table, where i was placed, desnudita y gordita, with fat yellow mangoes. i shall tap into that this summer...i know a kid here in new york who hates all fruit...really?! not even a motherfucking seedless green grape you ungrateful ingrate?! a pluot? one framboise? tamarindo juice with ice on 24th street or central valley oranges ripened at 20 degrees, foggy farenheit? just bitter greens, nuts, and grains, no? exactly what a horned goat would eat, i guess...you'd be right to assume that this manifests - can't be bothered for sweetness, for kind slices, for saccharine words and most of all no sugar in your bowl - no way baby. amazing because the mouth is akin / to a thing / dripping off the tree in spring...but whatevs, sweetness gets too sticky sometimes, i understand... i live in honey ; not my problem you can only swim in pools.this note from my beloved Karlene:
"Spring is a time for new beginnings; start over, tater. Farewell to last spring and everything that it brought with it, hello to Spring 2010, with new loves and new excitements and new apartments and new jobs and new everything."
yes, boo.
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