A Parisan orange
lay bang
in the middle of the street.
I couldn't have
afforded to avoid it
the orange
of all oranges
lost & stranded
but still as
big & bold & bright
as a newfound
sun
in an unknown solar system.
The soundtrack
of Paris
happening just off stage.
Everyone had
vanished
except me & this
orange.
Somehow it found
its way to my head
& unravelled itself
in a concentric spiral
a swirl of orange peel
& white pith
like a Can-Can
dancer's skirt.
I ate it.
Oblivious to everything
else
my first
French
orange.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I just adore this hymn to an...an orange. You make it seem like the only orange in the world...the most desired orange in the world...the most...this poem is the most! And an orange from Paris...I mean was it originally from Paris or was it just holidaying and then the two of you encountered one another and it was love at first sight. Did the orange feel the same...did the orange come on to you....who made the first move? All these questions the poem fails to answer...I want to know more! You will have to write another poem to tell what happened next! love Dee Dee