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Ripe Mangoes
By Halsted

I am reading your work
I feel like a spy
a member of the CIA
perusing documents that
are not mine
maps of places I
should not be

poet, artist, writer
you are just a man
getting by
bad teeth like mine
and variable eyes and ears
hear either too much or see too distortedly
can not cure
ingrown eyesight
mental strain
is no blessing in a velvet dress.

place five ripe
mangoes in my pockets
the juice smells of turpentine
the juice is sticky
but the taste is that of a foreign nation
drunk with power
satiated with warmth and sweetness.

your praise is as sweet as the mango.
© Copyright 1998, Halsted. All Rights Reserved.

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Document last modified on: 07/21/2002

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