Sarah Jones

Fresh Fruit


I can’t cut an avocado
without becoming that child
whose neck bent around the wall
into your kitchen, to watch
you with a blunt blade
saw through a rind as thick
as my fingernail. Your arm
fat gyrating over the counter’s ledge
as you spun that fruit round
till its limey iris and its pot-belly
pupil was exposed to the salt
you shook, shook, shook—how’d
you get the money for that fruit,
anyhow? You’d stand there
in the window’s light, dipping
a spoon into the meat of that fruit,
and I’d wonder when you’d
share that moment with me—
when there’d be enough fat
to cover my bones too.

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Sarah Jones is a poet and freelance writer living in Seattle. She is an editorial intern with C&R Press. Sarah is the creator of the “Bards & Beverages” poetry reading hosted by the Pacific Northwest Writers Association. Her poetry has been featured on NPR and The Bridge. Her work has appeared in The Normal School, Yes Poetry, City Arts, Birds Piled Loosely, and many other places.

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