Fruit Series
by Opal Palmer Adisa
Guava
The green exterior disguises perfectly the sweet pink-seeded meat that lives inside. This, her father told her, was a metaphor for how she was to dress, modestly, to hide the lascivious curves of her behind, as he was not able to protect or be with her all the time.
Breadfruit
Long ago, the god of the Taino people appeared to a guileless maiden and convinced her to allow him to sleep in her bed. The next morning she woke with a round-mounded stomach, and as she squatted in pain, the fruit spilled from her and fed the entire tribe.
Tamarind
Old age is said to be better than fortune, but she didn’t agree. Left all day on the veranda, she wished she could be of use. Once, she knew which flowers were medicine and which could sweeten a pot, but now her fingers betrayed her with their stiff numbness.
Papaya
He always looked at a woman’s mouth first. The shape told a lot, not just about kissing, but more, about how readily she would agree with him. Her mouth told him she was malleable; she would be good to the touch and someone worth savoring, all orange and black....
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Opal Palmer Adisa (ZYZZYVA 2, 52) teaches at CCAC and lives in Oakland. Her most recent book is Leaf-of-Life (Jukebox Press, Oakland). E-mail: opalpro@aol.com |