Poem: Ode to a Peach (only it’s a plum)

By: E. Martin Pedersen

peachchew

Marianna can’t stand the sound of chewing
She can’t sit with grandpa
She leaves the table or makes us all self-conscious because she’s on record
She can’t stand the sound of chewing

——————- SHE IS SO WRONG ! ————————

It’s the sound of chewing
the violent chomp
the resistance of the purple skin
the steady flesh of the fruit
the click of the stone
slap of churning cheeks and lips
suck of air
dripping water works
a spittle of nectar escapes
another bite starts
before the pulp goes down past the little flaps
techno-logical golp of swallowing
and the echoed clang as the mashed pulp hits the stomach.

I will destroy you
take your name away
your distinctive bloody coloring
your sharkskin aroma
make you a part of me
but
your seed won’t let
me forget
who you are
and will always be
by the echoed clang
as it hits the metal wastebasket.

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