Synaesthesia Magazine Seven Deadly Sins - Page 65

Paradise Island

In a ravenous half-clothed state

I jumped my Caribbean patio gate

pursuing a coconut down the road

squishing lizards dodging toads;

apologizing to the plant,

I scaled its shingled trunk—

it was me against the fruit.

Tearing and pulling in the night

it finally shook loose

and with reptilian speed I scurried

to my chamber's outdoor court

one leg then the next I landed:

right foot in the butter, left one in the cup

(damn that luncheon tray).

Now to crack the furry nut.

3 a.m: I sent that fruit flying

against the Turkish tiled porch,

but as I watched my meal

bouncing back and forth,

it’d only lost a hair or two,

otherwise completely there intact.

Once more I waged war

throwing full force against the floor

and just like Humpty-Dumpty

it cracked in several pieces.

About to feast on juice and meat

no knife or fork could be found –

so from the closet I retrieved a hanger

and, freeing it of its twisted shape,

cross-legged upon my bed – I ate.

Madeleine Beckman is a poet, fiction, and nonfiction writer. She is nonfiction Editor for IthacaLit, a literary journal, and a contributing reviewer to the Bellevue Literary Review. Her work has been published in books, journals, anthologies, and online. She is the recipient of awards and grants, from among other places, the Poetry Society of America, the New York Foundation for the Arts, and the Irish Arts Council of Ireland. Her poetry collection, Dead Boyfriends, was recently reissued by Limoges Press, Madeleine teaches in the Medicine & Humanism Program/NYU Medical School and privately.