Ode to La Naranja
It's a ball rolling
across the living room carpet,
so el perro picks it up and tries to bite it.
But he's in for a nasty shock, isn't he?
Its bitter taste a warning
that this round orange thing is fuerte,
so don't mess around.
How many of us also
found this out the hard way?
Remember being too little to know
you peel it to get to the sweetness?
Our hands looked like estrellas
when we held one between them.
Hungry stars too small to tear away
such tough skin by themselves.
How many of us were startled awake,
to the presence of sourness in the world,
the first time we took just a little taste?
This heavy globe can fly
through the air
to wallop a brother's head,
it can even fly with others in formation
in our dreams at night,
or in the quick hands of a juggler.
Once, I found a huge one
in the bottom of what looked
like my grandmother's pierna
hanging from the mantle piece,
its toes very swollen.
My mother harrumphed
when she saw it.
Imagine the ignorance!
To make a Christmas stocking
out of what you wear every day!
But my abuela was tall like a tree
and I loved to cling to those legs
in their fuzzy flesh-colored cotton.
And here was one of them, filled to the brim
with all the things I liked:
paper dolls, and crayons, rainbow colored Jacks,
and nuts for me to crack like a big girl.
Finally, there in the toe,
a golden naranja sat waiting
like her love,
regular as the sun.
Not everyone feels the way I do, I know.
There are migrant workers in Florida
who live in fear that their picking days
will be over if they get caught.
There are husbands and wives sitting
in hospital emergency rooms right now
because one of them is having an allergic reaction.
Not me, no thanks, too acidic. Afraid I'll get eczema.
You'd better take a napkin or you'll get really sticky.
Eating one is like taking an orange bath. What a mess!
But even the boy who set his naranja on fire,
by putting it in the microwave,
saw for a moment what power
there is in that cabeza-shaped fruit
with its veins, and segments,
and seeds so much like thought.
How easily it took to blazing,
like that big thing in the sky.
How quickly he had to run for the agua.
This is no joke.
Dulce, but por favor:
a little respect.
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