Ode To Kiwifruit

I
And in the Central Valley
some of the kiwifruit aren't round
in an eggish way, but look like
Siamese twins and triplets neatly made
into one kiwi, like fur-
wrapped Alaskans pressed together to stay warm,
small commemorative figurines of Mount Rushmore
with presidential faces seriously
unshaven. Just as green
inside as the accepted kiwi, the same
wave of seeds in rolling connect-the-dots smiles,
just as sweet, just as potent
in tenderizing tongues if you eat too many
or chew too long.

But you don't see these in grocery stores.
They don't fit neatly
through the machines which sort.

II
The kiwi I just bought in Nurnberg
was nearly perfect,
deserving at least a line or two here
both praising and eulogizing its firmness, flavor,
roundness, largeness, vitamin content, even though
it grew up in New Zealand, not California.

III
California is where I found them
lovely. On eating one last autumn, I felt amazement,
as if the Holy Grail of fruit had always been
just a market trip away;
I immediately made a friend promise
to remind me someday that kiwifruit is fantastic
and should be eaten.

I forget things like that.

IV
In the Midwest, many grocers don't know
what they have. They leave the kiwi in
some corner of the produce aisle
until they're pruneish, soft as bags of gelatin,
a touch of mange, tasting horrible.

At this point
the grocer puts up a "8 for $1!" sign. What wonder
then, for Hoven, South Dakota,
in a tiny, corner store, to have small,
sweet, firm kiwi
cared for like emeralds in custom-fitted leather pouches!

V
They really don't seem so sexual
to me, as some friends say they are:

in some ways, the skin reminding them
of the pubic area on a woman;
some say they hang in plastic produce sacks
like testicles. But I
am too fascinated with my own sexual denials, so
in this realm I must ask you
to use your own imagination
rather than borrowing mine.

VI
I don't recommend kiwifruit fried in olive oil and red pepper
and they do something awful
when stripped to skinny dip, green and moist,
in milk. But in pancake batter,
fruit salad, pastry, they slide in
as naturally as a tired body into a hot tub at night.

VII
But then there are those wonderful,
bulbous, large, irregular kiwi--
remember them from section one?
how the steel and plastic and silicon reject them?

I can almost see those doorknockers
clogging up the automatons, refusing to pass
down the neat little holes, only sold at farmer's markets
in places like Davis, California or Hokitika, New Zealand
near where they grow, accepted
and cherished by the warm palms of poets
who write odes to them
as an important matter of taste.
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1