Oh, Think of Cezanne or Braques or Maybe Someone Smoother Like Vermeer
by April Krassner

Instruction comes in the form of fruit. Peach
does not appreciate the meanness
of apple, the pretentiousness of pear,
the insistence on silent screaming
in the face of more traditional
observation. What is the point of color?
Such exhibitionism! Natural
sugar all sweetness exposed and nothing
left to danger, to imagination.

Of course, the worst are the bananas
reading Chekhov, adopting airs, phony
accents. These fruits are stupid, all of them
completely ignorant of real desire.
They acknowledge patience and ripening
and living in the glory of tremendous
reputation. Pay closer attention
to the cloth, to the bowl and what has been
placed purely for the purposes
of seduction. Curve of lemon, watch out.

April Krassner is a poet and essayist living in the New York area. She teaches writing at New York University to adult students who are seeking their undergraduate degrees. She received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College quite a long time ago. Her work has appeared in Iconoclast, Poet Lore, Zing and, most recently, Anderbo.

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